Its the end of the world

For me, I have gotten hurled

Across the expanses, across the dessert

Crashed down, to the ground, and it hurts

The ocean of opportunities has dried up

I have gone broke and my mind is fried up

I had a dream one day, but it fell apart

Now I just need money to fill that shopping cart

I wish I could believe in myself, now that's a tricky art

It took me so long to even try to start

Pride is a balm for all who aren't Mozart

For perhaps placing our self-worth in talent isn't very smart

I deserve to live, I deserve to feel good about myself

Even if I may not be perfect, I wish to be happy about my present self

No, not the future one that's fixed all its problems and is picture-perfect

But the current one who resembles shattered glass but still dares to inhabit the shelf.