The question remains, why do I exist?
Pondering again, as I fall asleep.
Every other day this query persist,
Whether in flight, humming or piercing deep.
It struck again, as I touched her body,
“The question remains, why do I exist?”
Not again, this would make my work shoddy.
Her beautiful skin, I could not resist.
Embracing her so that we coexist,
Again that thought, when she looked in anger,
“The question remains, why do I exist?”
and my presence there had transformed her.
Then came out the tool she owned with pride,
Swaying towards me , caught me with a twist,
Before the spark could consume me I cried
“The question remained, why did I exist?”
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