Slave to tiredness

I bring myself full of hopes back, pinning for the better life. As the saying goes “the more hope you’ve the greater pain you’ll get”, it fits in tightly to my situation.

Nobody understands me well for my heaven turns into hell. I can’t accept the setback and I live on to suffer. My life full of misery gives me depression.

It’s a pain to know many things often, and I wish I don’t get to see the hypocrite of people. I witness the distrust of each other and I start to realise why some people love to fake busy.

I begin to doubt my belief, that working wholeheartedly is showing the greatest respect to the entruster and me. I begin to wear off.

There’re too many things I’m unsure of and before I’m taught, I’ve to do them. There’re so many errands and many others are always sitting around.

My old injuries return and I know one day I won’t be able to handle the pains, till I lose the ability to walk, I tear each day, looking back at the slavery army days.

Things pile up each day, and into my personal life. I can’t breathe as I shed my woe. I’m strengthless to retaliate when people challenge with meaningless mocking as they believe I’m working comfortably and leisurely.

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