I've always been a better fit,
As someone left inside a pit.
No rising hills of happiness,
With sparks of hope alight with bliss.

For inclines end at edging cliffs.
Beckoning my fall.
Sparks are starts to raging fires.
No skin unburnt at all.

I've always been a better fit,
As someone tossed inside a pit.
Hands on a shovel as i dig.
But never can I fall.