Marching Pains

This is...a poem? I wrote in the notes thing of my phone. So I'm gonna share it with all of you! enjoy ;-)

I March.

I try.

I fail.

Friends? Heck no.

Keeping up? Nope.

I can't do anything right.

I'm a failure to all.

I don't deserve to be praised

Because I'm not good enough.

They get frustrated with me.

What can I do?

They get annoyed with me.

It isn't my fault...

I should quit.

I should go.

Forget being apart of something important.

I mess up.

Everything.

Everyone.

It's deeper than just marching.

It messes up your head.

You will feel left out if you don't do things correctly.

Like me.

I can't anymore.

They said that it was somewhere to be accepted.

It's not...

You can't be open to someone

You can't talk about your problems

Well...I can't.

Because my problems are there.

Them.

The hate.

The pain.

The tears.

I can't deal anymore.

I can't march, I have no friends there.

Why should I stay?