My hand melts as I pen my sorrow,
Eyes bleed, heart races towards tomorrow.
But what truly was my pain?
It was me—my unmet desires,
It was me—longing for calm amidst the fires.
I tried to be content, to find renewal,
But all I faced was failure, all I heard was ridicule.

I wish, instead of melting, I could stand like stone,
Unaffected by the world, strong and alone.
Failure wouldn’t sting, and their words wouldn’t scar,
My heart would be hardened, my face without a mar.

Yet this collision of failure will one day make me tough,
A rock, unyielding, when the world’s not enough.
On that day, the mockery will fall away,
And I’ll stand tall—a mountain, unmoved by what they call


© htk