Buried in a ditch,
Underneath the waves,
Always a step behind
Never doing the right thing.

One thousand feet down,
All alone underneath,
Stuck in my own solidarity,
Without enough motive to retreat.

Being constantly watched
From an eye in the sky,
Being looked down upon
Never knowing why.

A bed of flowers
All gray and gloom,
They hold all the power
To make you cease to exist.

Cease to live.
Cease to love.
Cease to run.
Cease to have fun.

Cease to obsess.
Cease to feel.
Cease to cry.
Cease to envy.

Embarrassed at everything,
Impressive at nothing,
Always trying to please.
Yet nothing can please the envied.

You can continue to try,
Give it everything you have.
Yet what do you receive in return?
Nothing.

Nothing but constant emotions.
Nothing but disappointment.
Nothing but weakness,
Exposing your vulnerability.

Nothing but the truth.
The cold hard truth.
What no one wants to hear,
Exposing all insecurities.

Nothing but shame.
Nothing in return.
Nothing at all is what you became.
For showing no concern.

The rain pours down,
Continuously in sheets.
Never stopping.
Never relenting.

As the rain pools,
Your insecurities and secrets are revealed.
One at a time.
Killing you all the same.

The people find shade as the weight grows
The rain is no longer alone.
Their remarks heard over the booming thunder,
Their focus on you never breaking at the cost of the lightning.

One thousand people standing on your shoulders
Refusing to move or budge with no possible way
To relieve the pain,
And relinquish your emotions.

One by one the weight builds up
Pushing you farther down where you belong.
Underneath the waves.
Under the flower beds.

The simple way to describe
The feeling of everyday life,
Feelings of weakness.
Feelings of vulnerability.
Always unwanted.

No one wants the envious person
To contaminate their life
With their disease.
The disease of envy.

Always sick never healing,
Forever in confinement,
Your heart is bleeding,
Completely isolated from society.

Your veins are coursing with the disease,
Spreading through every inch of your body,
Infecting every cell,
Beating through your heart.

This menace makes a home in your body.
Knowing that it will stay
As long as the people and the weight remain
Instilling disbelief in any cure.

You are infecting others,
With these feelings of repulse
Being forbade from life.
All from impulse.

On top of the pain and weakness
There are a million stares being cast about.
All focused on you,
There is no doubt.

The stares express feelings
Immaturity and disgust,
Are all they see
Without even looking beyond the seams.

You look back up at the people,
That you are bearing the weight of,
And feel nothing but envy
For those up above.

Envious of their appearance.
Envious of their style.
Envious of their perseverance.
Envious of their smile.

Envious of their position.
Envious of their life.
Envious of their possessions.
Envious of their rights.

Envious of their being.
Envious of their love.
Envious of their capability.
Envious of their luck.

The weight continues to push you down,
Never relenting.
Never releasing.
Always preventing.

Until there is no more,
Preventing normalcy,
Preventing a life,
One that is full of love and peace.

A life opposite from this of brutality.
A life without running.
A life opposed to enmity.
A life without shunning.

The looks of disgust.
The feelings of shame.
Are now just mere realities
Taking all of the blame.

There is no control.
There is no release.
There is only constant pain.
There is only regret.

The regret of your own life.
The regret of your own actions.
The regret of your own appearance.
The regret of your own envy.