The irony of feeling the guilt
As a quilt of comfort
Once too many
Unapologetic apologies
What am I fighting for?
What am I striving for?
The numbing cumbersome
emptytiness
Penniless
Theory it was all the fault
of mine own assault
On the contrary
Who do you see?
Not the me; I thought I would be
My thoughts shackled; I should free.
My poetry 