The gates of heaven don’t open for the wicked,
The damnation of hell is reserved for the beasts,
The dark caved cells are kept for the theifs,
Paradise is for those of eat, sleep, and breath serenity.
Where do I fall in? Am I a beast or gratified with peace?
The world is covered in opportunity but only about 10% of it is for me.
The thought of failure distresses me and fills me with obscenity
Success seems so unaccomplishable with all the insecurities,
I work, work, work, yet I fail, fail, fail.
But, my determination to rise and fight against the pain,
Fuels my uphill battle against my own brain
The thoughts of success and failure rumble through,
As I find my place in this cruel borough
If the gates of Heaven don’t open for the wicked,
If Hell is reserved for the beast,
What am I? Where do I fall in?
This thought often compels me.