Before the empty parking lot,
I can hear the voices of friends,
Their heckling laughter, I forget not,
The fun times that injustice ends.
Looking at the old, ugly building
That won't just crumble down in a curse
I am alone, in this space, hating,
Seeing life in my old, empty purse.
I sighed at the bleak emptiness
Of life that must move on...
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