Failure

I wrote this in 9th grade, at 13 years old. But I think it was well written.

Failure

Sleepless I stare above,
and apologize all night long.
I think only of despair,
that sick and desparate song.

I know my soul is sick,
and my body not far behind.
I weaken with every shot;
fired by my very own mind.

So enter my cruel heart;
ominous, deep, and dark.
You will see my true critic-
who detests my every mark.