My poem about Hope

I’m afraid my mind is running dry of inspiration every time

I judge myself so no one else has to do that for me!

Where do I stand in the world raving about self-love?

Where maybe my goal is self-preservation

I’m no Eliot who can say that “April is the cruellest month”

However, living in denial offers no peace either

Like rain-clouds on a sunny day they overcast my mind, body and personality

Or is it that am I just too moody?!

They say sarcasm is for winners, so I take the path of self-deprecating humour

Haunting my mind and covering up my real feelings in tandem

Some say my creativity is heavily inspired

And I pretend I do not know what it means, but I do!

Or maybe it was just another autosuggestion by my own mind?!

Am I confused or just plain stupid...or is it that I am neither

Lack of clarity kills more than any other known disease and more so in my case…

Never feeling complete is my story...I’m a yin without yang or maybe the other way around

Pardon my sloppy verse because we are all just a little bit left behind

I fear not failure since perfection is a losing game...

I’m so bad at doing many things at once yet that is what calls my name every time

As a stupid idealistic this is my life where poetic justice is by far just a dream

I know my verses lack rhyme

And in the world of poetry, this is a but a true crime…