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 ...
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