Serendipitous fate? Unlikely for me,

A future with light? One I cannot see,

A conundrum of life, an acceptance of mess,

it must be because I'm allergic to success.

Life rotates, like the eclipse of a sun,

I'm forgotten behind, I'm equal to none,

a solitary allergy, one that has no cure,

wafts like the stench of lying demure,

I'm in pain when it's close by, in pain when it's gone,

a nightmare has no ending, like how the light once shone,

I'm born this way, a flagrant shadow,

I can't pave a path, if the place is too narrow,

ambitions, a light becoming less and less,

it must be because I covet for success.

The stain of water, on ageing rust,

like the ever-lasting smell of putrid must,

staying there forever, not once walking ahead,

my existence stuck, like paper to lead,

I try to feign it off, a futile attempt,

but I must simply be someone of regret and contempt.

A burden upon me,  perpetual stress,

A life of misery, the allergy of success.

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idk why all my poems are depressing, it just happens lmho.