Post Graduate Resident Department of Pediatrics and Neonatology
About
Why do I still fight on?
Why is there room for hope
Still left in my soul that should have filled with despair?
Why do I stubbornly continue to grope
For exits, which, I know, have been sealed?
Perhaps I am too young and haven't tasted fully
The bitter poison of continuous defeats?
Perhaps I am too rash and can't consider coolly
The end with which each aspiration meets?
I know I am weak, I know I'm alone.
The chance of losing's great, the chance of winning-slim.
But even by defeat, perhaps I might atone
For sufferings that fill Earth to the rim.
And maybe in the grave, my body bruised and sore,
My conscience will torment me no more.
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I am a simple man.
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