Literature
How Does it Feel to Have a Life?
I hate waking up in the morning.
Because it's another day I suffer through,
More hours I have to cry through,
More tears that dry on my face,
For reasons that life goes at a slow pace.
I hate opening my eyes.
I wish all I could see is light.
I never asked for this life,
So, what's the point in this strife?
Why can't the hard stuff go away,
Come again some other day,
When I'm ready to fight,
For reasons why I have this life.
I can't draw my sword, if I don't have one
I don't want to fight,
I just want to live my life.
If I can't do that,
Then I want to die.
I want to greet my heavens,
With a pile full of questions,
Hop