I watch in disquiet fellows becoming the cream
Of the crop,riding the crest of the wave contently;
I only gaze at the sky and wonder in deep fathom
Where is my star is hiding for my tears to turn to joy.
The irony of ironies is that most of these peeps
Use to look up at me wishing to be witty like me,
Now when they see me I feel the pity in their eyes
I feel their confusion burning my anger with loathe.
Waking up in every broadening morrow is a task
Brimm`d with abject malaise of acutely debilitating
Self-esteem marred by pessimism neck to neck
With dwindling self-worth and confidence lacking.
My time is yet to come for my star to shine bright
Dispelling the wolf bringing delight to sate my spirit.
