No one home

The body moves
The minds not there
motions made
life going on

they see the shell
the quiet routine
the normal life
the living automata

can I feel
am I here
who is it moving
is it me

works goes well
much is done
praise is earned
does it matter?

time is passing
another day done
then a week
more emptiness filled

I eat to live
there is no desire
nothing excites
dead inside

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