A burning candle,
Burning to show it's alive.
So many audiences to handle,
Surviving is a job, 9 to 5.
Like a lonely flower
Getting so much rain.
Staircase never going up, too much plain.
Like a tea cup with a broken bottom,
A faded, worn-out folder.
Ashes float like cotton,
Unsent letters getting dusted.
Shattered bulb, long time blasted.
Life, silent eyes never lie,
Mouth which gets dry.
Each morning is a loss of the meaning of the word “try.”
Justice always hidden,
Where moonlight fades into painful sobs.
Sunshine never lands,
Where the curtain is bland,
Forced closed with a trembling hand .
Like a pair of tired eyes,
Where sleep is a hum.
Music makes thoughts dizzy and numb,
No dream to escape.
Close your sobs with tape.
Like a wooden mirror,
Which has no beauty to show.
Without sunshine, no longer glow.
A burden… stone forever unlifted.
No beauty, a bland mind,
A seeker of a little kind.
Existing is exhausting,
Where pain meets the sky.
Language of pain anxious to fly.