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Stifle
It’s like I was born for this.
Constantly fight,
To be right,
Yet somehow
Always be wrong.
The greatest saboteur,
Of my endless struggle,
Remains the one
Who can’t give up?
Won’t give in to desire.
To be happy is to live in failure.
So I live for the trifles of my own
Desperate attempts to stifle
The world I erected
My able, but stagnant soul
Is screaming inside
For release from this game
Called failure,
That I am so good at playing.
