I've been attending my funeral
In this new reoccurring dream
It seems even my subconscious
Is growing tired
Of this Low self esteem
And the man behind the gun
Is just the man in the mirror
I've even started praying to god
That  this muddled vision of my future
Might become a little clearer
Because this gift I've been given
Is like a malnourished seed
All this time waiting for flowers or trees
But left there at my headstone
Just a pile of weeds