My life seems to be frozen in time.
Waiting for the sun, but it no longer shines.
Nothing ever changes. It all stays the same.
Searching for the happiness that I want to gain.
Everyone else is moving ahead.
But all I can do is lay here in bed.
People, their lives, their friends, and their luck.
I'm going nowhere. I seem to be stuck. Some tend to think that my life is quite good.
I don't agree, but maybe I should. Plebeian types have to live on the streets. While I sleep at home, tucked away in my sheets.
I shouldn't complain but it's become very hard, To enjoy life's small moments.
I'm internally scarred.
My life isn't bad. It's just somewhat tougher,
than the people I know, that's because I do suffer.
It was never my purpose to bask in my pity.
I just needed to express my deep pain subsequently.
Please comment titles to help me name this poem. And I believe at some point we all think about how our lives are hard and I always have to remind myself that there is worse