The Wrong Creation

You live here with worry,
When everyone is in hurry.
Wherever you are, it is not always far
From the place where problems are.
You live in a world,
Which is filled with thorn
Hearing words full of cold,
Which in turn makes you torn.
Shedding tears are not new
Since your happy moments are few.
You cross each and everyday,
By saying tomorrow will be your day,
Comes also the tomorrow’s
With a big sack of new sorrow’s.
You like to be thrown down from hill,
Which stays as your will
Even friends don’t like you
And, enemies hate you.
But I am sure, you have one
Friend who makes you always win.
If I have to take you back,
You should be dead.
O’course you will pay anything for that,
But still you don’t suit for that.
Every problem has an end,
In your case my friend
I am sorry, there is no end
O! Human it was me,
Who made you born
Now! I regret for not
Creating you as corn!