I work hard
To find the best
In people,
It's just not in me
To think
That all people
Are uniformly
Bad,
So why can't I
Extend the same mercy
To myself?
Perhaps it is because
I live
In a harshly judgmental
Environment
Devoid
Of loving acceptance,
Surrounded by
Constant reminders
Of my every fault
And weakness.
I live in sorrow
That my illness,
My condition,
Renders me incapable
Of independent living.
I oftentimes bitterly regret
That I wasn't born
With a stable mind
And marketable talents.
I apologize often
For all my shortcomings
And failings,
But the apologies
Serve no purpose
Other than
To remind me
That there is little
To be done
About them.