Scrap poem, never gonna finish!

I hope every minute you think, a flower of guilt blooms. I pray your garden of guilt goes on forever. Your living is a privilege you shouldn't get to have. Does your harm have no boundaries? When you look into a mirror do you cry? Every one of those tears you squeeze out of your eyes are just the tears of those you have harmed. If you cried for every minute of every day it couldn't compare to the billions of tears you have created. A monster in the making since birth. No one could even fathom how you got on earth. Do you ever walk through your mental garden of guilt? I wonder..are all the flowers white? Do you fail to recognise that all these flowers are blooming thoughts of the ones we had lost. And all you see are inanimate, dull flowers? Flowers that may never bloom because they had fallen ill to your hands.