I'm here sitting
alone,
the smell of coffee runs through
my veins,
some music i probably will forget
in a few years arguing with
the thought of you,
But I'm here,
I'm here,
writing about what's happening
pretty boring huh?
i call myself a poet
but i can't use high metaphors,
i call myself a poet
but i can't describe fully
how you make me feel
i call myself a poet
but what am i?
I'm just a kid
scared of life
finding new ways to cope
searching for someone to love,
desperate,
not holding unto my dreams
how can i choose with my mind
what's right for the heart to choose.
and you see?
don't you see?
don't worry i can't either
i can't see how great i am
i can't see how other people see me
i wish i could.
i want to believe this was a dream
or
a nightmare at that.
But at last.
I'm here wishing that in another life
i could be with you,
or
maybe in other deaths,
i crave your touch,
i crave you..
with coffee waking up my senses
like a kid in summer waking up early
to go play with his friends.
i wish things were different,
so i wouldn't have to wish.