I feel like a roof won’t cover me.
I can’t busk under a tree.
Jobs will pass by me.
Nothing here, nothing to see.
The big issue is deep inside of me.
Confidence is my absent key.
I can’t earn this, unreachable fee.
Teaching, reaching and beseeching thee.
Fetch no path my way to feel glee.
Absence and opportunities aren’t free.
The other side: as a rotten wasted bee.