Frustrations mixed with delusions of grandeur, sipping on CrynChronic, at least Tails had Sonic. what good is a view if it’s covered in fog, haha look at the *** on the log. Oops it’s a mirror, no Alexa five more minutes, once my eyes open the anxiety starts, the peace departs, the draining begins, I’m losing my wind.

Glass #2 is a trip I want to cancel, no insurance so it takes its toll. I want to buy make up stock so credit it is. The interest is high so I bet on my feelings. District 13 odds but we came from the ground, shh not a sound, keep the tension inside. They say the greatest earthquakes come from the littlest lies. Remember the fruit! Every misstep is a big step, every bad course is a crash course, every tall tale is an exhale. Grow Up. I learn from the lessons but feed my depression, no free lunch, please charge my aggression. Insufficient funds when I withdraw my resentment. Look at the time it’s a quarter past regret, I hear they spit in your drink here. Another excuse to tighten the noose. Glass half full, no waiter thanks, I’m not thirsty.

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

He writes poetry
But no one knows

He writes poetry
He writes about love
And loss

He writes about smiles
And frowns

He writes about sorrow
And forgotten towns

He writes about how lost he gets
Caught up in his own mind

He writes poetry to
And about others

But no one knows

Know one knows the depth of his soul
Because they all choose to see the exterior
And that exterior screams

Preppy
And preppy
Don't have souls

Or so they thought
Until the day he was consumed
By his own poetry

Tired Minds,
Tired Eyes,
And tired lies.