Fictional write for the contest theme.
My mind is tormented each second and minute and hour of the day By shattered dreams that never came, my life is plagued by sadness I often think of what could or should have been on most days The cards that I have been dealt in this so called life were so terrible If this is fate then I don't believe in it and It doesn't exist at all I long for my days to be numbered really really fast In the midst of my soul is a profound darkness and emptiness Sometimes there's a vague notion of will I get a better hand? Submitted To The Eight Lines Of Contest Sponsor: Silent One 6- 26- 18
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