My Tomorrow

What shall I do now,
Laying my head into a river to drown ?
When my future days are plagued with uncertainty,
And my current days are consumed in possessively degeneracy,
My loved ones' hands paved the ways to my earnest loses,
As my masterpiece, my worth have all been tossed,
I hate this fate; and my cowardice for yielding to it,
But never could I rise against it,
As for my comfort, I'm forced to ignore,
To forget, as a new day implores.

- Stu. T.H. (October 2, 2023)