Most days I'm okay.
I get by with a smile, a nod
or sigh so delay.

Most days I suppress
blabbering thoughts and memories of chaos and stress.

Most days I try
To find empathy inside
but it's to hard to comply.

Most days I struggle
Finding where I belong
Drowning in what may appear a puddle.

Most days I see
And I mean clearly see
There's just no point for people like me.