I’m fragile
like an eggshell.
I wish I was stronger,
and tougher
like a snail’s shell,
which can withstand anything
that comes its way.
I tell them softly
that I’m falling apart,
burdened by the weights
life gravitates on me
which is becoming unbearable
and already creating cracks
on my fine shell.
they tell me to man up,
don’t be a pussy!
life isn’t a walk in the park
nor a bed of roses,
that what I’m going through
is nothing compared
to what they have been through.
so I shut up instead
and mourn silently.
cos I know I’m not really
as strong as the world
expects me to be.
I really wish I was,
If only wishes were horses.
but who am I
to question the gods
who moulded me into an eggshell
instead of a snail’s shell?
faced with the harsh realities
of life. alone.
my tragedy shall hatch like an egg,
quietly, in the incubator of dusk.