It's a high time, now correct yourself, else way, regret will be your destiny, with no source of help.
A poem about someone hurting himself. If you can’t handle depression, correct yourself first.
Can’t Stand Now, I feel so down,
lost my way, I’m on a road unknown.
Boiled-up on myself, I’m yelling at me,
would you listen now, the stubborn kind of me?
Millions of mistakes that you’ve survived in pain,
don’t hope this will happen again and again.
It’s a high time, now correct yourself,
else way,
regret will be your destiny, with no source of help.
