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I stick with what I know Refusing to grow Until I’m losing the show With nowhere to go I become part of the flow Of an abandoned road Staying in my lane Playing video games I’m becoming lame With thoughts so tame Ignoring doubtful shame And bouts with pain To preserve my brain From harsh stains So when I’m social I am only hopeful They don’t see I have no soul To reach the top of that hill I need to develop the will To acquire a new skill That’ll leave me fulfilled And not on pills But on playbills That pay bills Where the bay spills But learning language Brings me anguish The stench of my French Puts me on the bench And I’m speaking German Like I’m inside a Sherman So I give up sounding like Napoleon And go try out the accordion But my focus on instrumentation Only causes further insulation When it doesn’t give placation Requiring practice and inspiration Yet I can’t tell the difference between a piano and a dynamo But I guess I wasn’t really trying though What I’m doing is more like dying slow Parked in the snow With nowhere to go I have no patience Nor discipline I crave safeness And indifference For living with ease Is my domestic disease Drowning on my knees Until I’m not interesting In this interest sea Where I float free But don’t see I say it’s all been done before So why should I do any more? Those before me got to score And then closed the door To the convenience store They created a mangled mold Out of their stranglehold On the angles sold But my blame grows old As my claims are told And my peers are polled Concluding I’m not bold After becoming cold After a head start I wait for a spark Alone in the dark With no real heart Expecting my part To fall in my lap And people to clap While I can’t do a thing I can’t dance or sing My hands I wring Scheming ways to be king Without pulling the strings And never committing It’ll be here I’m sitting
0
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 5:54 PM UTC
Convenience
I stick with what I know Refusing to grow Until I’m losing the show With nowhere to go I become part of the flow Of an abandoned road Staying in my lane Playing video games I’m becoming lame With thoughts so tame Ignoring doubtful shame And bouts with pain To preserve my brain From harsh stains So when I’m social I am only hopeful They don’t see I have no soul To reach the top of that hill I need to develop the will To acquire a new skill That’ll leave me fulfilled And not on pills But on playbills That pay bills Where the bay spills But learning language Brings me anguish The stench of my French Puts me on the bench And I’m speaking German Like I’m inside a Sherman So I give up sounding like Napoleon And go try out the accordion But my focus on instrumentation Only causes further insulation When it doesn’t give placation Requiring practice and inspiration Yet I can’t tell the difference between a piano and a dynamo But I guess I wasn’t really trying though What I’m doing is more like dying slow Parked in the snow With nowhere to go I have no patience Nor discipline I crave safeness And indifference For living with ease Is my domestic disease Drowning on my knees Until I’m not interesting In this interest sea Where I float free But don’t see I say it’s all been done before So why should I do any more? Those before me got to score And then closed the door To the convenience store They created a mangled mold Out of their stranglehold On the angles sold But my blame grows old As my claims are told And my peers are polled Concluding I’m not bold After becoming cold After a head start I wait for a spark Alone in the dark With no real heart Expecting my part To fall in my lap And people to clap While I can’t do a thing I can’t dance or sing My hands I wring Scheming ways to be king Without pulling the strings And never committing It’ll be here I’m sitting
andrew-rueter
Written by
30/M/Kentucky
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 5:54 PM UTC
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