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Wrinkled Defeat...

I felt her tender fingertips pressing my numb body and I knew she was willing to clean my dirt... again. I hate mornings! They only mean one damn thing to me: my prayers of last night couldn’t reach the stars, and my days refuse to end .

It’s ironic how life could change! I’ve spent ages running after opportunities to chase eternity, until I fell inside an empty hole where all I can do is lying down in an uncomfortable bed trying hopelessly to rest my awful fragile body.

To turn from a successful independent man who had reached extraordinary achievements, a man who used to be the strength for his daughter, the perfect example for his sons and the other half of his wife…Into an absolutely nothing is a tragic joke!

I hate how useless I became! I hate when I struggle to remember the name of my only grandchild. I hate when I can give my own sons nothing but bills for my medicines. I hate how every rose I gave my wife throughout my colorful days became now rotten that she has to clean up every morning.

My pride has distorted once I stared at my reflecting image knowing that I am nothing but a wrinkled pathetic man who’s forever stuck in the need of others.

Every night, I spit on my embarrassing hands for shaking all the time, my legs for being too weak to carry my spine. I even insult myself to let that’s called Mother Nature above get rid of me… Get rid of such a great man, or so I thought!
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