What Was I Made To Be

Was I made to
cause chaos,
or was I made
to pass.
I thought I was happy
the way I am,
but I realize the
troubles I cause.
Food tastes
like shit
yet I finished
every bit.
I work harder
than a man,
but I treat
people like
a petty woman.
Am I the
bad guy of
someone's story,
or the
flawed hero
of my own story?
The answer shall
be lost just
like leaves
falling into
the foggy mist.