Being Grey

I'm almost like a ghost.
Misty eyed.
Never enough.
Never enough..
Why am I not good enough?
I eat and get told to starve..
I starve and get told to eat.
I cry and get told to man up.
I man up and get called too rough.
What is the point?
I am nothing but a ghost in the midst of rain that will wash me away.
Sooner or later, I will disappear.
Maybe not today.
Or tomorrow.
Maybe not even years from now.
But there will come a point in time where i will be much less than a ghost.
Much less than grey
Much less than misty eyed.
Then will I be enough?

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This Poems Story

Disappearance is less than grey, less than a ghost, less than nothing. But maybe nothing is somehow enough..