A Living Disappointment A living disappointment—that's exactly how I feel. No wonder when life flips from real to reel, And it all feels disgustingly unreal. Oh, how I wish it could instead be surreal. I always give more than I'm required, Fool at heart, thinking it's desired. I tell myself maybe I'm just a giver, But why does even the thought make me quiver? Even when I give my best, they test me again, No matter how much I serve, how much I bend. Endless dissent, complaints of lack, All I receive in return is a heart turned black. How can I know what it feels like to be enough When I was always taught I fell short—always rough? Will I keep searching for an answer While this disappointment scars me forever after? They ask me, "Why do you smoke?" Little they know one cigarette soothes every empty night, The dark room, the darker soul inside, A solace I hunted in every face all my life. Guess it'll always solely remain the one That never complains, just numbs the pain. Yet even it fades too fast, Leaving me alone, haunted by the past.