I am what I am: A poem 

Don’t fault me if I wish to die 

When I’m in pain, I’m bound to cry 

Life can be plain, but accidents are sudden 

A crossroad can become an oversized burden 

Don’t condemn me for my lack of trust 

A seeming Samaritan filled me with disgust 

Don’t write me off if I say the world is unjust 

Circumstance discriminates, governance gathers dust 

Don’t ridicule me if I make a mockery of myself 

Hope and despair take turns on my shelf 

The weathercock in me is a regular joke 

My moods are full of steam and of smoke 

Don’t reject me if cynicism is my wall 

The optimism of others makes me feel ever so small 

 If I have made a high mountain of a tiny molehill 

I still never sought a lot, and always humbled my will 

Don’t humiliate me if I am poor 

A little goodwill is good for sure 

The lonely sceptic needs reassurance’s knock on the door 

Honour and dignity are priceless in his store