Ego sum, ergo cogito.

---I am, therefore I think---

Head banging against a wall.
Every time: I fall.
Can't pass this barrier;
can't stop being a fool.

Tears flowing from my eyes
fuelled by frustration when I realise
I can't do it - or anything
I tell myself I can - all lies.

Is there any point in continuing
this futile being?
When I hate myself for hating me,
I'm just slowly dying.