Suppose it’s not really
Intended
My life
In suspended
Not meant to be
Rife with such plight
And by night
I think only
Of dreading awaking
I feel only painstaking
Time slowly wasting
But quick is the day
Dismal in its dismay
And I only see color
In colorless gray
And replaying the same
Angry songs
On repeat
As I work myself
Famished
To earn what I eat
Keeping on
Sleeping on
What I’d rather be doing
With you
But that ship has sailed
Leaving me ruing
The few, but still ruinous
Tragic mistakes
I have made
But won’t make
Anymore
For your sake