It's 2: 59 in the morning,
But I'm still here wide awake.
It must be hard accepting
The pile of responsibilities I must take.
Just why in the world is this?
Why of all the people does it have to be us?
When we are just petty people with dreams.
Reality is just sickening; for what cause?
Hah! It is like a cliche drama show
Where things suddenly take a bad twist.
Our faith has already stooped so low,
Must we take another of fate's fist?
It seems I can do nothing but complain
Out of the sadness and misery that we feel.
Just like getting homelesss; wet in the rain,
With no one to turn to; you just kneel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem