Wither
Another day has failed me yet again,
and I wonder why god has put me here.
Do I serve some invisible purpose?
Or am I just here for the ride?
I worry constantly about others.
Never considering for one second, that I should be taking my own advice.
I've run myself into the ground.
For so many others fortune.
I've gone out life and limb,
to save another's skin.
Why do so many suffer?
Fall around me it seems,
I wish I could take all their pain away,
Even if I had to put it into me.
But this is the way things go,
I slowly wither myself to insanity,
while everyone else watches.
Sometimes I'm afraid,
of what tomorrow might bring.
Others times I'm ready,
for anything it can throw at me.
Still, I'd like to think I am sitting on the moon,
watching the world as it slowly revolves.
But instead I'm left with this.
I know someone may be proud of me,
but never do I realize it.
So here will I stay alone and away,
as I slowly wither away.
