All my shirts have bloodstains,
I don’t suppose that’s good.
At night I’d never kneel and pray,
But I applaud people who do.
To write nowdays takes effort,
An effort I don’t have.
Nothing in my life romanticizes,
My pen goes through collapse.
It’s rare for me to produce a thing,
For things require production.
I will sit and stare and waste my days,
I fret over my diction.
My poems are fading.
My life is not.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
All my shirts have bloodstains,
I don’t suppose that’s good.
At night I’d never kneel and pray,
But I applaud people who do.
To write nowdays takes effort,
An effort I don’t have.
Nothing in my life romanticizes,
My pen goes through collapse.
It’s rare for me to produce a thing,
For things require production.
I will sit and stare and waste my days,
I fret over my diction.
My poems are fading.
My life is not.
