Analysis of Life's Torture

As I write this. I think about who I am.
I feel lonely sometimes lost without hope or dreams.
I have memories, some I do not want, anxious almost never calm.
Life as I know it is like a person. Always winding me up. "It seems".

I lie awake till the early hours. Wondering why I am who I am.
Why am I being punished. Why o why.
Too scared to open like the petals of a scared flower.
But my heart is soft. Always feeling the need to cry.

The tears well up, But nothing comes out.
I think of my whole life up to this point and what I'm about.
I search for answers but always met with a wall.
Everyday is a struggle. Everyday I tumble and fall.

So here I am a forty three year old man.
Nothing to show for those forty three years that I am.
My only solitude for this existence is when I close my eyes.
In my head I scream where no one can hear my cries.

Knowing tomorrow will repeat this very day.
The prospect of it is daunting. But it needs to be done.
There is nothing but darkness and no where to run.
I'm just being truthful in what I say.

At 1a.m. I write this very poem and think.
What will people make of this writing.
Does he use his brain. His poem's stink.
This is just part of my life. Nothing too exciting.

So you either like it or hate it.
As they say. "It is what it is"
I've just wrote what came to my head. There is no faking it.
So I say this is what it is.