Epitaph If ever the jigsaw puzzle of my life Could have been completed, A magnificent masterpiece would have resulted. But so   whatsoever pieces were jammed By the inconsistencies and restlessness inside me That they never harmoniously fitted to payher. I was afraid to live, So the puzzle was just a myriad Of confused clinches and hopes unmet. I expected perfection from   separate imperfect world And was deeply hurt and bewildered By the many facets of the inhumanity of man. Though my potential was of an incomprehensible  maroon level I was tormented by too  high expectations ...

 And  alarm of failure... Or was it fe   ar of success? Regrets.                                        If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: 
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