I don't go outside often.
I avoid the sunlight,
And sleep in a coffin.

Your stereotypical vampire,
This is another sob story
For a ritual campfire.
Not an individual
To be admired,

But how I long to be
Blown into the nose
Of fame like *******
With no shame.

I'd be another meteorite
To crack under the spotlight,
Diagnosed with blocked sight

At a dead end
As inspiration deadens
And the debt of regret sets in.
Nothing would be more pleasant.

(c) 2015 Brandon Antonio Smith