  

I’m a failure at death and life,

Cannot measure myself in material,

I am grounds to be a statistic,

Selfish is all left for my memorial,

Ever more fixated on my plans,

No longer cry when I visualize,

Exhausted, bored, dread, and more,

An ugly petal to be pulled from life,

I honestly do not dream anymore,

Only anguish getting out the sheets,

Discomfort from the effort anymore,

Just want to close the damn blinds!