Sitting on a chair,
I can't find a words to share;
It felt like agony,
I never get sympathy;
Drifting from time to time,
When those words failed to rhyme;
I am sick and tired,
But it was hard to swallow my pride;
Disappointment and regret,
It was all- I did get;
But tears never show,
For it find years to grow;
So this is me when I write,
Piece of poetry- never seem right;
I am wounded it wreck me down,
It'll be later when old self comes around;
I am a fighter I won't surrender,
But I killed a pursuer in my own wonder;
Therefore, tomorrow here I will wait,
Let it take care of itself if it is my fate;
