I hate myself,


I wonder what my purpose is,

Why was I even made?

Who am I supposed to be?

What am I supposed to do?

And yet, I’m dissatisfied.

My standards are high,

Because I can try that much,

At least let me do my ‘best’,

If there is any standard at all,

Someone say something.


Try Harder

Everyone says try your best,

But really what is your best?

Is it slaving under low-light all night for a week,

Trying to finish whatever work/school/fun/other assignment?

I highly doubt so,

There are no standards for “best”,

All we do is try,

Does that mean it’s our best?

What if trying hard his considered too hard?

What is the standard for the best anyways?

Because I believe “the best” is simply a phrase that means: Try harder.

No matter how hard you try,

The best is only a phrase,

So, just try that should be enough.

The Homeless

The rain pounds hard,

The puddles form,

Along with the lines,

For hot food at,

Soup Kitchens,

The homeless struggle to survive,

In the wetness of Downtown Vancouver,

Canada is not a third-world country,

Yet there are the homeless,

The stink of weed,

And the constant number that keeps rising,


The wetness,

The constant rain,

Those looks that passerby give you,

Are horrible indeed,

Please help the homeless,

Provide some toiletries,

Food or blankets,

And you’ll make a day.

Generally, hard.

It’s hard to change something that is stuck,

Written in my memory,

Embedded in my habits,

Do you expect me to conform to a standard,

I have no heart for?

I try,

You just never see it,

I look wandering and somewhere else,

When I’m working to help other’s ,

You think this happened,

When it really did not,

I can’t expect you to know that,

Because you don’t know,

It’s just generally hard,

To be something else,

To go back a few steps,

When you’re there far beyond,

I don’t even know why I bother.