The Life of a Mental Monster: A Poetry Collection

The End

I sigh; the days of enjoyment in youth are long gone

Memories are bittersweet

I have never felt the same since those days

There is no longer sweet sensations,

Only dust and cobwebs.

I'm not sad

I'm just tired; I'm just tired I say

Tired is how you feel when you want to sleep,

Or when you want something to end.

No, I don't feel tired;

I am tired.

Every day is full of rigorous work,

I get nothing for it,

I do it endlessly.

I wait and wait, all day long for time to pass:

As soon as I awake,

I want the day to end.