You are happy, enjoying self-pity - but
no fun for me - no freedom to be myself
while you lament your life, spending time
in sackcloth and ashes
Feels like fire and brimstone to me; there is
no helping certain people and I am one of
them; as of now I shall read my book
patiently till you start to count
Your many blessings; it might even dawn
on you that the bane of your life – ME –
was a blessing in disguise also, after
all I tried, this day is lost
And so be it, why should it be
different?
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