the things fell out of the line i had planned, my efforts die when i feel my bleeding hands. desperate, like a mother, who reaches for the sky and she can't understand why her child had to die. defeats from a box of difficulties, packed with frustration, this is the best gift from life to get into depression. planting a flower on the grave of my plans, wetting it with tears when seeing my scarred hands. every effort was made in vain to keep it alive, the anger is gaining ground all over my mind. i have no option but to bury the thoughts, and to bear the sight of the wounds. died before birth, buried into earth i'm just a bird in the cage of the world.