Just a Drop

Every morning, every second

is a decisive moment.

The sour taste of every lesson

is a destructive torment.

I keep a straight face, but insane mind,

a grey coat so I can paint white,

stretching my sleeves and wrap behind

the egotistical me who’s always right.

Bash my head into the table!

My thoughts turn my world into a fable

and the reality goes away like a wave.

The sea is too big for my drop of sorrow,

and not today, not even tomorrow,

it’ll worry for the way I behave.