I’m tired? Maybe.
I’d quit? Maybe.
I’m fine? Maybe.
Is it me? Not really.
Sometimes, this world feels finite.
When I’d remember my times
With a sense of nagging shame
Or Embarrassed by my name.
That I thought I was carefree,
When the sun came up
And the busking of flies,
Left the rain traces
Of smoky scent,
lingering in the wind.
All a shame, cause’ now,
It's a misery.
A resentment on life
But it isn’t fiery.
I’m just looking for a path of reconciliation
Who knows,
The real me ,
might lead me someday to my destination.
May 11, 2021
May 11, 2021 at 1:08 AM UTC
I’m tired? Maybe.
I’d quit? Maybe.
I’m fine? Maybe.
Is it me? Not really.
Sometimes, this world feels finite.
When I’d remember my times
With a sense of nagging shame
Or Embarrassed by my name.
That I thought I was carefree,
When the sun came up
And the busking of flies,
Left the rain traces
Of smoky scent,
lingering in the wind.
All a shame, cause’ now,
It's a misery.
A resentment on life
But it isn’t fiery.
I’m just looking for a path of reconciliation
Who knows,
The real me ,
might lead me someday to my destination.
