Le travail is getting the best of me,
Being more than what I wanted it to be,
And consuming all that I once wished to see.
Les enfants are a source of my envy,
With the way that they live so simply,
And the ease with which they breathe.
J’utilise the determination I was born with,
And yet I feel like I have missed,
The point of doing all of this.
La mère of this resentment lying in my repentance,
Against all that I lost track of since,
I realized that I was losing it.
Je commence to feel unstable,
And like I am somehow unable,
To rise above these defining labels.
Quand j’ai realize that work has consumed my mind,
And all of my precious time,
Never allowing me a chance to unwind.
Une chercheuse of how to serve others,
I echo the footsteps of my own mother,
And I allow what I need to go uncovered.
J’ai un abonnement to what I am willing to lose,
And proof that I am willing to choose,
None of this over the option of being used.
J’ai mieux opportunities laid out before me,
And yet I allow myself to mislead,
All of my previous beliefs.
Il est a shame that I am left deranged,
When I have so much more that I could gain,
If I proudly claimed I am sane.
De participer in this debate,
I am left feeling irate,
And all I want to scream is
FUCK THIS STATE.