Anger and frustration loom over me.
I see hate, I see rage,
I see hopelessness.
When shall what I love most seek me first, and never last.
When shall my embers be quenched, and my colors show?
Clearly I deserve good, but wrong was I to think such a thing.
What I have lost will never be found; this is the truth I have known, and this is the truth I will live with.
I am alone.
Author Notes: Don’t be a wretch like me.