“I Dinnae Ask Ta Be Born”
Come and join my pity party.
There’s a seat right next to me.
I’ll share more than you care to know.
It’ll only costs some sympathy.
Can I convince you, that life is tough?
That, misfortune follows me?
For wrong or right, or just for spite,
Fate supports my misery.
If I could list, you’d get the gist,
Of all my maladies.
You could conceive, all that aggrieves,
And keeps me from some peace.
Hop on my train, while I complain,
It’s nice when I can confide.
Your presence here, your open ear,
Helps deny the facts I hide.
It might well be, that I can’t see,
How my choices bring pain to me.
But at this table, you help enable,
A lack of accountability.
When the sky falls, Who’s at fault?
Well, it certainly can’t be me.
For, fate’s designs, keep me behind.
Please, take pity on me.
A New Age prerequisite?
Founding unfounded regrets.
Of all things unsaid,
Trapped in one’s head,
Admission of stagnancy foments.
The standard litmus.
The measure of men often hides.
Life long lethargy,
Complacency has a sinister downside.