The uncaring and unempathic
Make me so mad
Thoughtlessly operating
They fire around

Insensitive words
That can ***** and sting
Designed to hurt
Dark energy do they bring

It’s all about them
And their world of pain
So bitter and twisted
Verbal punches do they rain

Down on those
Whom have ‘irked’ them so
Unwittingly perhaps
But still they blow

Me me me!
They take precedence
Self-centred to the hilt
So others they condemn

Offloading at the innocent
To numb their misery inside
Makes them feel better
To cause another to cry

I guess they can’t help it
As they’re suffering within
Something is lacking
In them, something grim

So on to any poor soul
Do they their bile project
Thus be mindful of this
And yourself do protect.

I find a way to relate anything and everything to home.
Oh look, it's a bag of chips.
               I used to eat chips at home.
Oh look, it's a pencil.
               I used to use pencils at home.

And each time it makes me cry.

Someone passes by me wearing perfume that smells like Mom's,
I start crying.
I see the words mom, dad, parents, home, family,
I start crying.

Am I just a crybaby?
Or am I allowed to feel sorry for myself once in a while?
Because if you were in my place, you would too.
Anyone would.
Don't deny it.

Please just let me feel sorry for myself now.
Don't call me weak.
Don't call me over-sensitive.
Don't call me a baby.
Don't tell me to cheer up.
Don't tell me to focus on the good.
Don't tell me to shut up.
Don't say I'll be okay.
Don't say it'll all be over soon.
Don't say I'll get over it.

Just let me cry.

Soon I will get far

Beneath our footsteps on a long shore,
The sand is soft and promising
And there she is
A beautiful muse
Waiting for me like there's no fear
In the world
Looking forward for challenges