Always run over by the tidal wave of circumstance,
Folding and unfolding throughout the misery,
I fail to recognize the fault in all the wrong deeds,
And therefore cherish them loyally in my repression.

Ignoring all the anger that I ought to express,
Cancelling out depression in benevolent self-reduction,
I must diminish myself in the presumption that I'm wrong,
Perish in my darkest fears of unreasonable rejection.

Playing this card of my internal weakness,
Toying with the borders I so carefully chose for myself,
Others make my rigorous fairness in interpersonal
communication
A pathetic sidekick of their bold fiendish foulness.

But it is only my problem between the walls of my prison,
Jailed for being unable to make clear the errancy,
For being too comfortable and defyable,
For being too nice and understanding, beyond prejudice.

Unable to buy myself freedom at the cost of desolation,
Fearing to lose the fruits of my supposed stagnancy,
I see it is too late to be dynamic and inconvenient to climb
over,
By not emphasizing my weakness so strongly,
By being a normal, imperfect human being.