Bittersweet Satisfaction

What is t;he purpose I write for, what gives me constant drive?

The answer is simple, because I wish to express my life.

Although at times, I feel underappreciated.

Shut out by my own kin, what kind of sh**t is that?

I'm expected to go the extra mile, but what about them?

There hypocritical words, does it burn like acid on there tongue?

People say they mean you well, but in reality they mean you despair.

This Bittersweet Satisfactiion, should I really care?

I no longer wish for things that were glalmorous, what happiness does that truly bring?

Hell to be perfectly honest, my perspectives has definitey changed.

What choice do I have but to feel this way, is this the price happiness pays?

The satisfaction of being responsibe, feels so damb good! 

A drug I can not get enough of and I don't  wish to.

Why am I the only one that chooses to be fair?

I guess the Bittersweeet Satisfaction, lies there.