i come and go, im

i come and go, im here, im there.i sleep, i wake.i go throught life feeling the dread. the dread of the sorrow of my life and the disarrage. how did i get here?how did my life suddently seace to exist to its full potential. can i really come to the realization that im not a perfect and happy person. how can life really matter if the whole time i've been lost, lost like the complicated human beign that i am. i have to accept the fact that im not perfect.

Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741