My insides bleed with anger,
Flowing outside as salty tears,
Excreting onto my face.
Nobody knows the pain,
The ache, the unhappiness,
Dwelling within me.
Times like these come,
Dealing with them is a bitch,
Sometimes, there’s one way.
Only one way to escape,
The prison of failed dreams,
Unused and wasted talents.
Others call it selfishness,
Oblivious to my inner cries,
For ultimate sanity and peace.
The worth of ultimate demise,
Isn’t understood by those,
Not living in silent despair.
–Maria Mocha © 2005