No matter how I tried to resist,
As times passes,
So does, who I was.
.
I used to find it romantic,
Whenever was asked to stay up midnight talk.
Now I simply find it,
An annoying bother called obligation.
.
I used to dream that one day,
I'd become a well named psychiatrist.
Now I simply wants to,
Be in isolated ward as a patient.
.
I tried to be that ideal brother,
Protecting them as well as model.
Now I won't hesitate,
To sell them just for my sake.
.
To help those in need and seek,
Used to be part of my virtue.
Now in the sideline I smile,
As I enjoy how others suffer
(alt: the feeling of schadenfreude)
.
I used to be an optimist
Pure and naive, full of innocence.
Now am a pessimist,
Basking in taint as a hedonist.
.
I need not pity,
Nor moral guidance.
Been there, done that,
Heck in bed my teacher and I end up with.
.
Do feel shame about all this?
Wouldn't have a poem now if I did would it?
Why would hide myself,
I would rather show me for the world to see.
.
Yes, this is who I had become,
Or probably who I just really am.
I no longer know,
For I'm too far gone.
.
So need neither pity nor guidance.
For it's too late for me.
But before, like me they end up,
To those who is not yet, it still not.
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