Enough

Enough

You are gentle just like this burning sun,

And are polite as the violent rain;

You always drain my life of possible fun,

And always triumph, making me insane.

I can no longer slumber through this night,

For a great fear, and with a constant fret;

Trying to make you proud takes all my might,

Even though expectations are not met.

But now I know no true satisfaction,

In what I accomplish thus far in life,

 Giving myself no gratification;

I make it my constant conflict; my strife.

And yet I know I will never be free,

Owing to the fact that critic is me.