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Though I've fasted and wept, Wept and prayed And stayed stoic long Through passing day And bard men song I can never, Never truly say I have achieved arête With clunky meter And rhythms wrong With stumbling stanzas And rambling on I must confess My souls intent. My fear, To be regarded as Just decent No I'm not the son of Xanthippus Who instigated the apogee of Athens The past beacons of Atticus Dims my own ember passions Though I've loved and lost Loved and lusted Won a few Others busted Though I've seen the world at the needle point, With all the sordid souls suffering I've lived like Cummings The farthest extent of emotions I've kept a drug induced devotion But never could I stop from wondering Never could cease sundering I've seen the valleys of my life Where the flowers are disseminated like t.v. static And the only sound a high tinnitus pitch I've said go, Go I don't love you anymore Not pretty enough to be a poem Not intelligent enough to be of any use I've drank with old lost men, dreamers, sloths, faux intellectuals, and conniving ***** I've seen them carefully explain their situation And hope for their future. Though I've smiled and agreed Agreed and died Through all this hell I have tried
0
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 1:41 AM UTC
Untitled 49
Though I've fasted and wept, Wept and prayed And stayed stoic long Through passing day And bard men song I can never, Never truly say I have achieved arête With clunky meter And rhythms wrong With stumbling stanzas And rambling on I must confess My souls intent. My fear, To be regarded as Just decent No I'm not the son of Xanthippus Who instigated the apogee of Athens The past beacons of Atticus Dims my own ember passions Though I've loved and lost Loved and lusted Won a few Others busted Though I've seen the world at the needle point, With all the sordid souls suffering I've lived like Cummings The farthest extent of emotions I've kept a drug induced devotion But never could I stop from wondering Never could cease sundering I've seen the valleys of my life Where the flowers are disseminated like t.v. static And the only sound a high tinnitus pitch I've said go, Go I don't love you anymore Not pretty enough to be a poem Not intelligent enough to be of any use I've drank with old lost men, dreamers, sloths, faux intellectuals, and conniving ***** I've seen them carefully explain their situation And hope for their future. Though I've smiled and agreed Agreed and died Through all this hell I have tried
213558tyler
Written by
27/M/High Ridge Missouri
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 1:41 AM UTC
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