What’s wrong with my stars?
It’s like I drew bad cards.
Am I a victim of an inauspicious birth,
cursed from the first to struggle, starve, and thirst?
I look up at night and damn the sight.
I turn on all my lights and hope it might
ease the tight grip of fright
these stars have on me, it’s just not right.
It’s no excuse. No, it’s the truth!
The stars ruin my life, and here’s the proof:
From my last breath to my first tooth,
every step I take is fake, a juke.
Can’t catch a break or make rebukes,
as I try to dodge my fate, it ain’t a fluke.
Twinkle twinkle I think I’ll slink till they blink out,
’cause twinkles’ hoodwinks will bring me to the brink now
if I don’t hide out, and try to ride out
the stellar fault whose assaults
turn my results into tortured tumults.
For #MayBookPrompts – The Fault in our Stars