My death

I'm so close; my death I do await,

I've got a few days of sadness left,

For nobody cares; this is my fate,

For hope of happiness, I am bereft.

There's nothing left for me anymore,

My life is full of failures and errs,

The want to stay alive is a chore,

And my death is what others prefer.

Very soon, my life will be over,

There won't be more pain or misery,

It's akin to a dying clover,

To others, my life's a mystery.