Poem: Another Day (Part 4?)

Evening finally comes,
turning to night far too fast
for my liking.
Another day of discomfort;
hot, sweaty, hungry, lonely.
A friend from college e-mailed me;
turning my day depressed.
Thinking of others
and the opportunities
they are given,
the joys they find in living,
the love they have
and share with others.
Never ceases to make me feel horrible
and sorry for myself.

Because my life is not theirs.
My life is not even remotely like theirs,
never has been, probably never will be.
It seems like all my mother really wanted
was to be "normal."
This is why she took the abuse from Dad.
Fuck it.
I'm too sad to go on writing
this same old shit.
My parents are fucked-up.
I'm fucked-up.
The whole world is fucked-up.
Nothing I can do to change any of these things.

I write because
I don't have many other outlets
for my emotions.
Maybe a Neutron Bomb...