Poem: I'm Dieing

I feel like I'm dieing.
The Dr. told me I lost 30 pounds
in the last three months.
Wasting away.
I'm not hungry,
just a dull lump in my stomach.
On the verge of crying
but the tears wont come.
Something in my heart stops them;
like my body can't afford to waste
precious water on tears.
Concentration hurts.
Nothing is good,
I want to just keep walking,
keep reading,
keep doing anything,
anything except stopping,
and thinking about my life
and how horrible I feel
and how even if
someone does care about me
there is nothing they can do
but give me: Money, food, drugs, or sex.
Everything else is useless now.
Now that I am dieing,
poor, insane, and lost
to the world.

Give me a quarter?