It never feels like it’s enough, the march of time, the ticking of my heart’s clock.
It feels like time is against me, like I’ve wasted what time I’ve spent.
Girlfriends, I’ve had a few.
I found a woman I could be happy with once or twice, but one moved away.
The other had never given us a chance.
I’ve wasted my education, having fun instead of trying hard - All because school was easy.
I spent my college days in drunk stupors lying to friends about where I had been, and waking up in strangers beds.
Lies upon lies, growing up too late.
Now here I am.
Sad, and alone.
Living at home, no prospects of my own.
Little overweight, high every night and every day.
All to have some feeling of pleasure. - Of happiness.
Writing poetry **** something I ******* detest.
But god **** it, what I wouldn’t give to find love and be held by a woman’s warmth.
Nov 27, 2025
Nov 27, 2025 at 10:46 AM UTC
It never feels like it’s enough, the march of time, the ticking of my heart’s clock.
It feels like time is against me, like I’ve wasted what time I’ve spent.
Girlfriends, I’ve had a few.
I found a woman I could be happy with once or twice, but one moved away.
The other had never given us a chance.
I’ve wasted my education, having fun instead of trying hard - All because school was easy.
I spent my college days in drunk stupors lying to friends about where I had been, and waking up in strangers beds.
Lies upon lies, growing up too late.
Now here I am.
Sad, and alone.
Living at home, no prospects of my own.
Little overweight, high every night and every day.
All to have some feeling of pleasure. - Of happiness.
Writing poetry **** something I ******* detest.
But god **** it, what I wouldn’t give to find love and be held by a woman’s warmth.
Request permission to use this poem