Writers 
WHY ME ON A RAILROAD
Why do I always have to be in the hot pot always
Why do I have to be on the hot spot so the grass does not get stepped on
Why does the knife always have to pass through my heart
Why do the cold days in the thick forest have to be my path while others get a sunny valley with everything
Feeling like a lost bride walking down the dark forest to her lover at the other side
No guests, just a snow floor and trees and this dark, dripping, freezing, creepy path
No father to hold her hand
No mother to wish her goodbye
No guests to gossip on the day
It's just heartbreaking to be an axe helping to break all the wood, yet left outside to die in the cold until I am needed to be used again
I finally get a normal sunshine
Blue sky
Green grass
Transparent lake
And a nice warm cabin
Just for a second and it all goes away
Making it feel like it's my punishment
For three seconds of happiness
And then the darkness returns, reminding me that happiness was never meant to stay long enough to become mine.
