I feel ashamed as the fire went out already.
It took so long for it to lit.
For a while it hasn't been that steady.
Maybe I'm not supposed to be fit.

For only a day and I'm already beat.
I don't sleep very well.
I blame the the weather and the heat.
But I know it's not the reason I fell.

When I look in the mirror I am ashamed.
The extra that's still visible on me.
I want to be seen, be famed.
But what I see is not what I want to be.

Asleep and tired, from my own urge to be freed.
Empty inside, but it will be worth it, you'll see.
But I'm not stopping this until I see what I need.
Yet I miss the days my fire was easily lit by me.