Stuck in this sick unending cycle, unable to escape.
I thought I could achieve more but I guess this is my fate.
Struggling to try my best but always falling short.
It's a pitiful, pathetic existence to be sure.
Always ending up last as history suggests.
Painfully striving to put forth my best.
Unable to experience anything of worth to me, unable to get anything done.
In this twisted life I feel like I'm the only one.
Alone, trapped in a glass box which no one can see.
I've done everything I can to try and break free.

Pathetic, sick, weak, coward.
These ideas torture me endlessly.
Devoid of truth, meaning or power.
It eats at me relentlessly.

It feels like I am destined to fail.
I can't see through the smoke.
I’m living in hell.
I fall and I choke.