Condemned

Sick is my need,
to feed of your insults,
of your scraps of hope,
of your false smiles,
and your forced answers.

Stupid is my request for care,
for comprenhension and respect,
all I dream of is you,
even if it means to be your slave.

Annoying is my incapacity to understand,
all I am fighting for is a long lost war,
I am never going to win,
running in circles as you are always free.

It is my curse,
my written tomb,
a sad and senseless epitaph,
I am condemned only to your scraps of fake love.