Thu, 05/04/2017 - 17:37 -- nazwick

I battle with fate. I battle it, I battle it!
My control, not yours! Let 
my decisions mean something. 
What kind of depression comes
from trying and doing and acting 
and kicking and screaming just to see
conclusively no change?

I turn my head to the left and nothing changes.
I stomp my foot. Nothing changes.
"Why don't you love me?" No answer.
Spite surrounds me, nobody gives me
the time of day to make a goshdarn difference.
I can change nothing. I control nothing.
I am fate's pawn and she despises me,
makes me hopeful for change just to show me,
over and over again, that I have no impact.

Fate, I battle you, I battle you! I try
and I try, but Fate, 
you always win. I am powerless.

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world


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