My life’s a filthy prick; living in dread
Lo, good lord! Spare, spare me a piece of bread
Do I need to go through over the hedge?
I’m terribly wrecked, no one else but me can merge
A virtue of life in a dark voyage
Volcanic visions of minions in a bunch
Explosive vengeance, breaking momentum in lounge
What a bitter satire of vineyards tasteful launch
You played cards with the devil’s cry
Your hellish painful life hasn’t changed though you try
‘cause all promises are full of dirty lie
Pretentious demon clown, waiting for you to die
I’ve always wondered why I am born in this world. At times, I mostly feel discontented of the things I have and the people I have. Even my own name? I hated it. Specifically, my second name. I can’t be happy with everything, when I look at the back while I’m standing, I see nothing, none but my shadow. When I look at the right side, I see my mistakes, the wrong ones, wrong doings, wrong decisions, wrong people, making me ask the question, “what is so right in the right side?” And when I look at the left side, I still see the wrong direction, the wrong path. Where should I look? At the front? When I direct my face straight and forward, I see a mirror, broken, and bit by bit the glasses are falling so hard even though they’re small, wounding my right and left foot. And when I see that face, I see bitterness, I feel the pain felt by this boy in the mirror. If loving myself is not a mistake? Then why do I end up like this? Why? And so, right then, as the glasses wound me, I’m feeling the weakness, the hurt, the pain, penetrating inside, pushing me hard to fall down and to give up. But when it’s over, I thought it’ll be just as I said it’s over, but i was wrong, when the small glasses have stopped falling, I started to feel weakness in my knees, I fell down and cried so hard. But when I looked up asking, and praying to God, to save me in this suffering. The enormous part of the mirror fell right into my face, making me lifeless, not just dead inside but also dead outside.