You tremble under the weight of my fingertips,
My delicate touch too much for you.
You shiver at the harsh phrase from my lips,
My poison words too sure for you.

You smile amidst your pleading cries,
Clear streaks running down your ruddy cheeks.
You have hope despite the pain in your eyes,
To still believe in me proves you're weak.

A sweater I put on, worn and worn.
To keep me safe, to keep me warm.
The outside soft, the inside thorns.
Tempting is, my love forlorn.

The sweater stays, ripped and torn.
For lost labors that I mourn.
A love has died, a love is born.
Hopeless is, my love forlorn.

To be so close, yet all so far.
I cannot reach, yet here you are.
I cannot leap, the jump's too hard.
Forlorn love tears us apart...

Disdainful tears, that mark my cheeks.
My helpless world, is far too bleak.
Without my strength I seem so meek.
Forlorn love makes me feel weak.

A sweater I put on, worn and worn.
To keep me safe, to keep me warm.
Love is pain, and love is scorn.
Wretched is, my love forlorn.

This is a poem, to all those like me
to all those who don’t suffer,
and who is just here to be

I have no big dream
and I don’t want much from life
maybe a good job,
and to die without strife

I will simply just exist,
and be happy and be sad
someone who won’t be remembered
because I’m neither good
nor am I bad

I am not unique,
I am not strong and I’m not weak

I am just here,
for a fleeting second of time
it doesn’t really matter
that I even wrote this rhyme

My purpose here will not vary
I’ve got none,
and that’s because I’m completely ordinary.

Strength is not the absence of weakness.

It is the presence of it

and when you have the strength to overcome it.