Feeling Sorry for Myself

by John Herlihy

I sat around,

Sorry for myself.

Nobody else cares,

Just a sad little elf.

My every endeavor,

Just ends up in vain.

Thought myself clever,

The result only shame.

Dwelling in self-pity,

Sitting in a closed room.

What is all this misery,

Of such dread and doom.

In hard knocks to wallow,

Will these trials never end.

Such a bitter pill to swallow,

Why do I have to pretend.

Misfortunes, setbacks,

Feelings of victimhood.

Helplessness, hopelessness,

Feelings of brotherhood.

A healthy sadness,

Pain leading to healing.

An unhealthy self-pity,

All positivity concealing.

Self-pity seeks compassion,

From someone, anyone.

An emotion turned passion,

Reaching out to no one.

Then I begin to wonder,

What benefit lies in store.

How my future to plunder,

A knock to open its door.

Finally, I sit around,

Feeling self-compassion.

A new worthiness profound,

Taken on as my new passion.

I arise from my sunken chair,

With a renewed sense of energy.

Throwing aside all my despair,

To smell the perfume of a daisy.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Thursday 4 December 2025