The shared tears of fate,
Those harmful conversations
Of,
“should I **** myself”
Debates.
You feel that you have another
Chance,
But that other chance maybe
Too late.
Those ****** memories,
And your murderous
Enemies,
That “Get the **** out my face!
Your no kin to me”
Type attitude.
Your zero tolerance
Have you floating
With no gratitude.
You’re lost,
And misunderstood,
Your crown of success weighs heavy
And far way too good-
With a mean-timid beast
Like yourself.
Theirs hope for the hopeless.
You feel 10 times worst when your words
Are respoken.
Your problems are now soakin,
But again as I say,
There’s hope
For the hopeless.


Marci H.