Dust

Sometimes I feel I am getting left behind.
This world moves much too fast.
The days bleed together like a mess of melted crayons.
I am still on the previous page
and a new chapter is already beginning.

All my efforts turn to dust
While those who have hurt me find their place.
They find salvation and I am left with nothing
only a fistful of broken dreams and battered memories.
When will it be my turn?

I have tried too hard and cried too much
and still it is not over.
Why should they be rewarded for what they've done?
While I am left here wanting,
Wondering what I've done wrong.

Sometimes this life is just too much
I cannot feel anything anymore
I cannot pretend to be happy if this smile feels so false
I have nothing to give you, so stop asking.
One day there will be sunshine
but today there is only dust.