Many days,
Have come and gone.
For most,
Many days,
Will come and go.
My days,
Have come and gone.

Some days,
Are happy and cheerful.
Most days,
Are sad and dreary.
My days,
Is a blur of madness.
My life is a blur.

Madness is
Everywhere.
Madness is
All.
Hatred is,
Always,
Present.

Everyday,
Has its ups,
And its downs.
I have not,
Had an up,
Only downs,
In years.

My life,
My days,
My everything.
Does not have
Madness.
They are consumed.

Every simple act,
Is criticized.
Every thought,
Is hated.
Every moment
Of my existence,
Is loathed.

Nothing matters.
Nobody matters.
I don’t matter.