I hate being a profaner.
I like profaning,
I’m failing to run away from it.
But this much worse, I don’t get.
I like spoiling my own joys.
I failed to keep away from profaning.
I hate being a profaner,
I don’t like spoiling other people’s joy.
I like this saying:
‘Had I been true to myself;
I could have done this earlier’
Only laughs, laughs, of bitter truth.
I like hitting myself in the face,
When I have ruined my chances.
Slaps, slaps, then self-cursings;
Hoping to do things right, henceforth.
Only falling to the same demon,
Thought to have been exorcised.
Opening door to self-hate and regrets;
Facing daunting future, only hope of change arising.