The Arts of the Silvery Red & Other Poems

Wasted Youth

I am a child who has no happiness.
For it rarely occurs in my life,
But if such happiness appears,
It will just cause me pain later.
Happiness never lasted for me.
It comes and goes,
Shattering my soul in the process.
So if happiness occurs once more for me,
I already know it will cause me pain once it leaves.
It is the way my life goes,
In addition, I always fear the worst of things.
The greater the happiness,
The greater the pain I endure.
Even though I am young,
My youth is wasted.
I no longer want to be a child.
For a child's life,
It should contain happy memories.
I have no such thing.
For a child like me,
There is no happiness,
Only the pain of memories.
I crave got a life of my own,
However, I know life does not crave me.
It does not crave a child that lacks hope.
I want this life to quickly end.
I am a child that lacks hope,
Nor do I have a future.
Even though I am young,
My youth is wasted.