I am just a shell.
Not a person...
not anything but a shell
of absolute nothingness.
I am worth nothing...
I feel nothing...
I am nothing.
I am just a shell.
Lost and broken
Hidden beneath
the sands of time.
I have lost myself
To the struggles of life
My heart is dead.
I am just a shell...
Nothing on the inside
I am just a shell.
I feel no pain...
No love...
No hate...
No guilt...
No lust...
Nothing.
I am just a shell.
Hi Chloe! ROFL
Ok,... I'll get to the critique.
Now, some of this may be a little farfetched.
The poem, Shell, which you have composed, resembles an emotion that has swept through alot of people, especially goths. Its a feeling of worthlessness, a feeling of emptiness, a feeling of emotionlessness. You are sealed in a mortal purgatory. In metaphorical terms, 'Your body has left your soul', and now there is a hollowness. I am a little manic depressive now and then myself, and I understand this type of thing.
The poem is repetitious, but this isn't bad. It shows that you are trying to allow this ideal to sink in. You still stress to feel the emotion of sadness or greif over this. You want to feel a sadness. Not a depression. A sadness. You still want to feel emotion.