I'm weary of this twisted world
Lacking virtue and moral
No one's perfect but this extreme
Is a nightmare, not a dream

Despair is closing in around
Not a person have I found
Who wants person over flesh
Everyone's demanding ***

Many years have I spent
Watching for someone unbent
But such a soul I cannot see
In such a world we are not free.

I've never been great at poetry;
The process always fails for me.
While mister Poe and Shakespeare last,
My writing ends up in the trash.

Their writing style, lost with age,
Their wisdom hid in ev'ry page,
The glory given where it's due -
These are things I cannot do.

My writing's forced; theirs doth flow.
I say it blunt; they say it slow.
Those areas that bless and move
Are places where I can't improve.

So why, with my lack of skill,
Do I keep on writing still?
With such a hopeless case as this,
You'd think I would already quit!

There was a time when I did -
My desk was shut; my pen was hid.
Then something occurred to me
Which changed it all instantly.

If Dr. Seuss had Shakespeare tried,
And Mr. Poe glorified,
And given up in dismay,
We wouldn't have his books today.

So keep on writing how you do
With that style unique to you.
Put your mind into use
(You just might be another Seuss)!

What am I doing with my life
Going nowhere with my lies
Hiding envy behind the door
Holding anger and even more

I want my friends just for me
That's no place that love could be
I count others' gifts instead
And think too much inside my head

I can't remember when I last
Had a true and honest laugh
Could be their fault, could be mine
I'm a misfit - and that's fine

I just wish I had the smarts
Or lack thereof, a social heart
To be myself without the fault
But make friends as sweet to salt

I can't remember when I last heard the wind whisper through the leaves of the trees, when I last saw the dappled, dancing shadows on the turf, when I last breathed in the smell of summer rain.

It feels like years since last summer,  years since I was happy, years of unending winter, years of struggling to get through.

And just when spring peaks o'er the earth and hope starts anew, everything is dashed by the return of the cruel snow, like a man being thrown back into prison after his first glimpse of light in years.

Just as summer seems so unattainable, so too does the happiness which has long been lost to me. Summer will come eventually, but sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be happy again.

Things are getting complicated
Ev'ry day I'm frust-erated
My hearts not in it, just my mind
Doubts are growing with the time

My mind is clearing, fog is gone
Every step I've made was wrong
By following the path to you
I'm binding my heart untrue.

You're a dream, you always were
But neither of our dreams concur
The galaxy you once called ours
Wasn't meant to hold my stars

I'm so sorry for the hurt I've brought
For keeping secret all these thoughts
I promise you have ev'ry right
To be upset at what I write

Though it wasn't meant to last forever
I'm thankful for our time together
And sincerely in these parting times
I wish for you the best of lives