The daily introvert

Spinning and toiling with the thought that life is funny,

how you can be so stable and have the ground ripped out from underneath.

At least I have a home and job, at least I am not in the streets,

the struggles I go through now feel so minuscule and discreet.

People in this world are always suffering defeat,

Im happy that I live my life knowing I'll always eat.

Knowing at any time I could buy me new sheets, 

So why do I boil over life when there is no heat.

You take everything for granted when everything in life's planted 

and it's only for you and hangs around like a winter flu,

before it's realized that control, talent and strength all come from inside.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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