My head is in a whirl,
The world feels too small,
There’s not a sound
That can break through the haze.
I’m stuck listening to white noise,
Feeling ill and yet carrying on.
I just can’t take it,
Not anymore. Why was I cursed
With this?! Stuck at the bottom
And laughed at, simply
Because I am poor.
I wish it would end,
Oh I don’t mean my life,
I mean the pain and the suffering,
This never ending strife.
If I felt well I would not care,
But I am not which is why
I feel so strongly my own despair.