Continuously pondering why me?
Why must I be the face of such misery?
They tell me, be smart, be kind,
Be free to express your mind,
And yet, all of these traits,
& no one to find me quaint.
No love to come,
Just utter confusion and pain that never seems done.
I wonder what I did to deserve such confusion?
What happened and was it all an illusion?
Is everything I felt merely pretend?
Am I truly destined to walk this lonesome path until the bitter end?
Tired of it all,
Tired of never being enough but null.
What’s the purpose of love to be in it alone?