The common cold is a routine reminder of myself as a feeble failure.
I am weak and am prone to complain quickly.
Found a faker for physical fatigue;
Guilty as naturally negative for the way I see things.
There are reasons for me to quit and lay in bed at every end of a good week or the start of a greater day.
This could hardly be considered creative, after all it's explicit, without secret, and redundant/irrelevant.
All I seek to be is perceived as such.
It has been that way and will continue.
My default in this new life has always been hopeful and enduring.