I’m tired? Maybe.
I’d quit? Maybe.
I’m fine? Maybe.
Is it me? Not really.

Sometimes, this world feels finite.
When I’d remember my times
With a sense of nagging shame
Or Embarrassed by my name.

That I thought I was carefree,
When the sun came up
And the busking of flies,
Left the rain traces
Of smoky scent,
lingering in the wind.

All a shame, cause’ now,
It's a misery.
A resentment on life
But it isn’t fiery.

I’m just looking for a path of reconciliation
Who knows,
The real me ,
might lead me someday to my destination.