T'was the night before school,
And stuck in her house,
The teacher was stirring,
Over her computer mouse.

Names on the folders,
Written with care,
Was there an extra?
Right over there.

T'was the night before school,
And all through the town,
Parents were cheering,
It was a ritious sound.

"A free day tomorrow!"
Is what the wife said.
"Yes," said the husband.
"Now lets go to bed."

T'was the night before school,
And kids were tucked into bed.
Memories of homework,
Filled them with dread.

New pencils, new folders,
New notebooks too,
New teachers new friends,
Their anxiety grew.

Their parents laughed and they giggled,
When they learned of this fright,
And shouted upstairs,
"GO TO BED! ITS A SCHOOL NIGHT!"

I forgot.
I'm sorry.
If I don't know it's important to you,
I won't give it a second thought.

You yelled at me,
Because I didn't know.
That's like a math teacher,
Getting mad at a second grade student,
Who can't multiply.

If I don't know it,
Don't blame it on me.
I forgot.
I'm sorry.

A Monday morning,
Slamming your face on your keyboard,
Ripping through the everyday sorrows,

Yeah.
One of those days.

Bleeding out your guts to people,
Letting it spill out on the floor for all to see,

One of those days.

No coffee
Means
No energy.
No energy
Means,
Tiredness.
Tiredness
Means
Not wanting to get up,
Splitting your face on the floor,
Crying your ever loving soul out,
And not having the energy to get back up.

One of those.

Staring in to the void,
Hoping for a soul to reach out from it,
Assuring you.

"It's okay. I've been there."

Those days.

Where your life seems it's shattering to pieces.
And guess what?

You have to get up,
And do it again tomorrow.

Me, myself and I,
Don't see I to eye.
Me, myself and I,
Don't get along.

Myself: There's three of us on the scene,
And I don't wanna sound mean,
But let me tell you that-
I'm happy without Me!

Me: Myselfs holding me back,
And now I'm on the wrong track,
Because:

I: Finally I'm free!

I: From here on out,
We can do things separately!
Without all the struggle,
And internal strife!
So now that we're separate,
We can do anything!

Myself: Don't let the door hit you-

Me: Have a nice life.

Me: I'm through with Myself,
I'm better of without Him.

Me, Myself and I,
Dont get along.
Without Him.

Time to explain:
Even though this is a poem site, I wanted to make something clear.
I've been going on several hiatus lately, and it's because I'm lost.
I know most people will say this is normal, but I wanted to make sure.
I'm completed drained of ideas, and each time I go to write, play music, draw...I feel empty. It's not giving me the same feeling anymore. Everything has become dull. I just wanted some help/reassurance.
Sorry for bugging you guys, but I needed to put this somewhere publicly where I knew there would be people that would understand. And if you read all of that just to help me, a Radom stranger...
God bless you.

My poems are getting shorter,
So is my will to live.
My scars are aching,
So is my back,
My feet,
My heart,
Drained of love,
My mind,
Drained of thoughts,
My eyes,
Can no longer see beauty,
See happiness,
The colors of the flowers when the bloom,
And most of all,
My body.
Drained of all hope.
Can't eat,
Sleep,
Laugh,
Cry
Hope,
Love,
I'm drained.

I want to scream.
I want to cry.
I want to break something.
To hurt something.
To hurt myself.
I've already hurt my friends.
Now it's my turn.
Get out.
Get out.
Out of my head.
Out of my mind.
Out of my life.
End it.
End my life.
Break glass.
Just like me.
Broken.
Inside me.
Feelings.
Stuck.
Helpless.

TrApEd.