Everyone's got their own to nurse
Every moment, every day
They lament in the verses of their curse
Daily... More would be incited to join the fray

They want to be seen and heard
They want to be consoled
From the petty absurd
To death's design enrolled

Counting on ready ears
And arms open wide
For me to wipe my tears
And be by their side

But I too, am living my own
I too, bleed my pen dry
I too, feel the misfit of my bones
I too, have my recurrent days to ply

I guess that's just being human
Expecting solace through words of grievance
We try so feebly to share the weight of burden
In the hopes that we'd plot our existence

I understand that the urge is great
So much so that we tend to forget
Others too, have had enough on their own plate
On which we pile our leftovers without regret

I am still here but.. It's time for some quiet
Be all I could be with minimal words said
For right now it's not working, this illusion of an outlet
Because I still see demons when I lay in bed

People can't do much with something so brittle
One could stay afloat if he learns to shout
I wish I could be more to everyone but I know so little...
Of what I feel so much about...