MY BEAUTIFUL LIFE OF LIES

I was living with my family, And was a happy child. My Father helped me grew up, To live a struggling life... Messy hairs with darks around my faces, Everyday I woke up with tears in my eyes... Pictures of my journey might look so colorful and bright, Darling you call it beautiful, I call it Black and White... My Mother makes me count, Every year that passes by, Thirty years have passed, Still my life is linked with traits of lies... Now I have wrinkles on my face, My hairs are grey and white. I hold a wooden stick, That carries no delight... Sitting in my old chair, I see the sunset time. I made a cup of tea, That always cherish my mind... And at the edge of my journey, Counting days and nights. Let my chance to come, When its better for me to DIE...