My Poetry.

I think every second that I want to die, I want to die. now there is no way for me to recover from the suffering that I am experiencing now, no one cares, all humans are busy minding their own business, no matter what I do wrong, no matter how hard I try, it will fail. only shame and excessive anxiety disorder that is in me, and my dream is to become a religious expert in the future, it is inappropriate for someone like me. all I have is rotting sin piled on my left shoulder. and suffering that gets worse as time goes by. I want to die. I must die, there is no reason for me to survive.