Sleep doesn’t come easily,
I wish I was dead rather than alive,
My eyes are closed but dreams are elusive,
No fantasy, not even a ray of hope,
Feeling like a string detached from a rope,.
Life feels like a cricket ball,
Hard unrelenting and cruel,
Trying desperately to reach its goal,
Running out of enjoyment fuel.
I want to cry and scream,
And let go of this hot steam,
I feel like a brush without any paint,
And a pen deprived of ink,
Life feels so hollow
With the pain of loving and so much sorrow
My thoughts are like a stay kite,
No tree to perch on, no place to hide.