Meaningless

From birth to death having nothing, no one else. Trapped inside an unwanted ethnicity. Struggling to survive in a world the game long since has rigged. Taxing my mind to confess I freely do, you charged my soul that only is. Competing for sleep in a world where others don't. Having no choice in how to die unless it's made by them and I will suffer more than someone should until I do. Speaking to the few whom understand the way I write because in speech I write the way none think. Making since of sentences in poetic form without chopping words from them because no other can. Reading minds if minds they were since mine has struggled to the point of no return. Let's face it every word that I have used by those whom came before you tried to make a reason for. Meaningless it is if the struggle in the end is being forced inside a point of light that ends the way it did before.