I do feel insecure.
I did run into storms.
tempest of my wildest,
hurling imprecations
coming after me.
I do feel irritated.
I gave zero fucks – whatsoever.
They blamed me for this
and that
"Don't worry," said I.
"Mere bad luck."
I do feel inspired.
I wanna do what I want
not where they needed me
to be at.
Yet, resolute has vanished
in the days of the bats.
Cause I do feel sad.
When I miss my friends...
so bad.
I'm glad they took the road
I did not.
I'm glad for them.
And no more than that.
But I do feel bad.
what myself had
is treasure for these revelers,
clowns and players.
Undermined, I'd be mad.
Cause what they had,
is happiness,
I would have loved.
