The Path

"The path to accepting my own
It's true that I've been hit with a few stones, but how many have I thrown?"

There's a moment in life where you choose your path: righteous or unrighteous. The choice you make is heavenly influenced by people around you, how they react towards you, how they answer you back upon what you do.
We all know that in this world being righteous doesn't lead to anything, most of the times, but you sure expect something in return doing so, the least of affection.
Evil thoughts travel everyone's frequency, moral delinquency eats and sleeps with me, meaning my heart is good, though I'm not the leading model of decency, because if I were I wouldn't have done some things.
I was arriving to a point to be happy  at someone's suffering and be mad at someone's happiness.  This is unacceptable to me, it means I'm not deserving, meaning that I'm back to my solitary confinement, meaning that I'll fucking choose the unrighteous path because it's useless to give your body and soul to these people and them not even care or notice. It seems that the more I try, the more I lose, I've always hated paradoxes.
After these achievements, I find incredibly hard to believe in me, meaning you are not calculated as even existing.
Even for a person like me is hard to look ahead when being inflicted by such careless.
Countless times I helped a person in need, but the same for me was never received. Perhaps I'm looking for answers in the wrong place, but this place is so right, I can't ignore my emotions.
Just because I'm kicking knowledge and I wish the best to you doesn't mean I'm a saint, I'm still prone to do evil, much evil, because I never received anything in return, and I'm not talking about material stuff, which I don't need.
I never, either, received a sign that what I'm doing is right. I need a sign, a person telling me that what I'm doing is good.
Countless times I thought that what I'm doing is worthless, because that's what people show me, they don't appreciate true art. It's so shameful when you try and give the best you have and you try smile in their faces, but being devoured by pain inside. Do you think that's easy? I won't be able to do that forever.
It destroys you when you do anything and then someone just stands still and steals your everything.
I'm afraid that my fate is as all other's true artists: we don't get shit, not even the minimal affection we need to continue on doing what we do best.
I'll try, 'til the end of time.

"In a world where fighting for what you love is worthless, you're left to your own beliefs of what's right and wrong" 

I think I hear God's voice.