Every day it’s the same,
Wake up, go out, come back, stress out.
You might have noticed that I omitted something,
But how can I sleep when the monotony is so distressing.

I feel like I  have nothing to live for anymore,
Like I’ve seen it all, and nothing will change any longer.
I feel like I’m just existing… In time, in space,
I feel like a failure, like a useless waste of space.

“But things will change”
At least that’s what I hope.
I’ve been telling myself that for a while now,
It’s beginning to feel like pouring water on a stone.
The sun sets and rises again and I lay awake at night,
Wondering what’s going on, if I’m doing anything right.

“At least you’re alive”
Yeah, I know.
But what’s the essence of being alive if you’re doomed to be stuck in one place forever.
I’m not saying I’m not grateful,
And I know that it can’t be this way forever.
But I’m tired.
And I don’t mean that I’m feeling under the weather.

I’m tired.
After writing this I’ll probably go have a good cry.
Like I always do after writing my poems which are anything but lies.
I keep hoping and working but nothing is changing,
I’m trying to improve, trying to heal but the past is still raging
I just want to accept it, that I’m depressed.
It won’t make things change, but at least it’s easier.
At least it won’t be as painful as hoping for something that doesn’t seem to be there
Or anywhere for that matter.

Everyday it’s the same cycle,
I get tired of life and write another poem.
I rant and I cry but I get over,
The pain I hide behind a smile,
And my frustration with my mundane life activities.
It’s so easy to just give up.
To just be alive and not to live,
But I don’t have a choice do I?
The easier path has never been my style.
So I go through this cycle as I always do.
And at the end of it all,
I pray I’ll be glad I did.