I tried to write just what I thought Upon an empty page I thought that showing all of you Would quell my mindless rage But who am I to pen it down While emotions fly so free And how do words give insight Into the real me I don't know but here I am Before an empty page Trying hard to identify With the war I wage I can't see how the world we run Can take much more of us We place the blame on something else When it all comes back to us How can you judge me by my words While I fly so free And who are you to live my life When you are not even me My pen has spoken here Although I tried my best Incoherence is the ink We use to record our word quest I cannot find the words to write As I fall down hard Gravity is inevitable Always standing guard I apoligize for including you In my worthless life But my tired soul cries out loud As I try to end this strife
Reason for writing:
Typical Teenage Angst:
I'm bored, depressed, and generally not happy,
But at least I can share my mood with you,
An open audience who could care less.
Not about me though, this is not self pity I preach,
But the pity, depression, and general not happiness
I get from the world around me,
A reflection if you will.
I don't like the mirror
Or the true image.
I think you get the picture;
I could go on but.........
Birth sign: Not entered
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View more poems by Michael Lloyd, Still a Cappy.