Never Sympathy

Looking up at all the lights that you can't appreciate Among the city life I wonder: What's out there; who's out there for me? From what I do the thoughts remain in constant circulation. From what I write will my life be revered or will it be viewed As a man who struggled to persevere. The outlets in which I drain my power are far from self-sustaining, and although Straining, they jolt along. The truth behind his words Is an authors saddest and most powerful story. His life; in relation To all that surrounds him. His light; in all that's growing dim. The complex written in small words as a reminder, not of spite, But to remember life and what has been survived. An outward Expression to set yourself free; hoping for understanding but never sympathy.