How to deal with sadness and acceptance.
There is no beginning.
There is no end.
There is a middle,
but it's poorly attractive to read.
I don't know how it began.
But rather why I'm in this mess.
Doesn't make sense.
Oxymoron of course.
Tears of fake joy when I won a round.
Of fake bickers comes fake victory,
but do I feel I'm winning.
The rounds are all the same.
There is no beginning,
only a middle.
But I know so this.
In all my problems I was alive through and through to wintess my lowest low, my painful scars, but my highest gain.