With the frenzy
of a stereotypical lovestruck fool
I pluck flower petals
of my existence.
I am okay. I am not okay.
I am okay. I am not okay.
Not sure if finding
or placing meaning,
if living,
or always failing.
I am okay. I am not okay.
I am okay. I am not okay.
When finally there is no more to pluck
My days have already been
spent.
I am okay. I am not okay.
I am okay. I am not okay.
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
With the frenzy
of a stereotypical lovestruck fool
I pluck flower petals
of my existence.
I am okay. I am not okay.
I am okay. I am not okay.
Not sure if finding
or placing meaning,
if living,
or always failing.
I am okay. I am not okay.
I am okay. I am not okay.
When finally there is no more to pluck
My days have already been
spent.
I am okay. I am not okay.
I am okay. I am not okay.
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