CONFUSION

I don't know what to do.

It seems bogus sometimes and sometimes true.

The reveries inside me are fomenting.

The comprehension is dud and lamenting.

I'm confused at times.

I can't protrude connotation from Life's berimes.

I find myself on the verge of vain.

I conflict with things that give me pain.

I only get the emolument of my bestir, inchmeal 

I anticipate the things that are vain and make it hard to deal with.

I carry the encumberment of dogmas of society.

In the denouement, I don't have wings to fly high.