The harsh morning light that slaps my bare face,
Dried tears, chapped lips, a sigh escapes.
All the mistakes of yesterday, I retrace.
A pang of guilt as the reality before me scrapes.

Anguish, sadness my useless self and tears.
Oh lord! Why he had to be so dear?
In the end, all I am left with is a handful of unknown fears.
Lost, derailed, my sight never clear.

Hate myself to the core,
For still singing the lores.
Of the past that unfolds,
The future that it wouldn't hold.