I give myself to the world
in the hopes that I could change it.
Remake it from these lost souls,
dissolve this culture of hate.
But the further I dive, the harder it is to breathe
surrounded by all this suffering
it's exhausting
to be idealistic.

Should I just surrender?
Say goodbye, and give in
to the weight of the impossible?
To think this dream could turn plausible
is a fading vision as I wake.

But I get up everyday, still .
I say, "You have so much to be grateful for,"
and it makes me ******* hate it more
because it will always be too much.
I give and I give
and I'm
WEAK
with life
WEAK
with love
and I can't stop taking.

But somehow,
this weakness makes me stronger
connected to all those others
who hold the world each day,
are brave enough to whisper,
"I'll go on with you."