I sleep as much as I can,
But to no avail
I wake up every morning,
Realising I've failed.
My eyes will still droop,
My face is still pale.
Mind stuck in this loop,
And brain in this jail.
My head always hurts,
These eyes wanna shut.
My hands are too slow,
My fingers want to cut.
I don't want to function;
Don't wish to work.
But I get up every morning,
And my being still lurks.
YOU ARE READING
The Thoughts and Poems from the Mind of a 14-Year-Old Girl
PoetryI'm just a teen dealing with life One Step After Another. So, enjoy these crappy limericks, verses, and rhymes. I hope they keep you company. One page at a time.
