Hey guys, the last couple of days have been crazy for me and I wrote this poem out of anger and stress. (Yes, we all know now, when I’m feeling bad, I go vent out in the poetry department. I have got nothing to hide.) After writing and posting this, I hope I can get over this bad time and rock life.
You can be sick.
Sick of trying,
Sick of failing,
Sick of mismatching pieces
That refuse to fit together
No matter how hard you push them.
Some other times,
You can be sick of yourself.
Sick of who you are,
Sick of everything that
Makes you; you.
You can be sick of doing,
Sick of your doing never paying off,
Sick of pressure,
Sick of how the world always seems to be against you.
Sick of how everything’s thrown at you,
Sick you can’t handle it,
Sick you can’t handle yourself.
Sick how everything can be taken away from you,
Sick how nothing goes right,
Sick of hiding,
You are sick of being tired,
Sick of being unable to get up,
Sick of nobody being there to pull you up.
You are sick.
You need medicine.