Before I Die Poem by Pishi Shiraz

I wonder
I wonder how many problems you have
Can you read this?
Are you laughing?
At my problems?
They're my own.
No one else's.
Some get ore
I got less
But I think
It's still overwhelming
Even when I hear
of the homeless,
the lost,
the poor,
and the sought.
Who has more?
Me or you?
Comparing them hurts but reveals the truth.
Away from the world
I have known for so long
Is the thought of a world filled with thoughts
Floating around, seeking your own
Finding others that outweigh
What you thought to be hell.
Can I feel like this?
I won't go to jail for this crime
But I lock myself in
to treat my mind
With loneliness
It somewhat helps
But I don't want to cry
I don't want to lie
I don't want to sigh
All I want
is to fly
before I die