I did nothing to warrant this,
Lost all my patience waiting for bliss,
A bitter pill that was never mine in the first place,
Sacrificed more than I had,
Gave more than I should have,
Made bridges where walls should have stood,
Misery of my own making or so my practitioner understood,
Sending me away so young,
Too green to know an olive branch from a poisonous leaf,
Or as much they thought,
How does an old dog learn new tricks,
What makes a mistake a regret,
Men such pricks,
Women such broads,
Who made this grandiose design to ruin fools,
But I was never average,
Always filled with so much passion it sometimes felt like passing rage,
Beautiful at the beginning tragic on every end,
A dream nobody would ever wish to be in,
Lost in my own self,
Fighting battles with scars whose shelf life would threaten an atom bombs persistence,
How else can you explain my own existence,
Bright as day yet so gloomy and pale on the face of reckoning,
Abandoned mistakes,
Replaced regrets,
Torn shreds of intimacies,
Lost count of all the intricacies,
Never felt whole but who on this ungodly world is,
Unless it’s too late,
So caught up in their own stress to notice anyone else distress,
When the pressure is already depressing,
Suicidal thoughts knocking on my door every moment awake,
How many more will it take,
Before the horses back breaks,
The world shutters and everything is a mess,
What kind of tragedy will it take to bring back sense,
Cuddled up in bed praying this night will never end,
Because there’s nothing worse than waking up to find yourself in the same nightmare.
ray's prasetya 