subscriptions thoughts turmoil

Traumatic it is.

A predicament keeps on hustling me  for years together,

Certain times it is as oppressive as myocardial infraction rather,

Other times it is felt, but less bothersome altogether,

Will I be able to fulfill it in my active years my thoughts gather?

Am I obsessed with that particular responsibility for  long?

My wandering mind saunters  aimlessly  mostly along,

The path and the avenue I tread , I feel are wrong.

Let me tell you ,my heart  sings  a melancholic song.

Never had I been cowed down by such retributions,

Ordeals and hardships are part of my life attributions,

I pushed them out with  deft designs and  foolproof execution,

Let me tell  you, my heart sinks into a dissolution.

Hundreds of   plausible insights did cross in,

None of them coordinated with my standard to a thin,

I tried hard to go along with the tide adopting a daring spin,

Let me tell you, I was drowned midway  in the chaotic din.

My plight has to be camouflaged   with a  tidy brilliance,

The despair in me tries to express itself in my countenance,

I struggle hard to suppress the emotions to befitting  credence,

Let me tell you, my  pretensions  lend me a required balance.

With a beaming smile I go about my  way of life,

With a full heart  I carry on  with my strife,

With a hope  that I would  overcome this  grief, 

Let me tell you, how traumatic it is , costing your half-life.