Counting seconds passing, on my left hand with my right.
Every so often when inspired I pick up my precious pen and write.
My boredom is becoming pain, as time and time again, nothing changes, its just the same.
Somewhat biographical, my life's become a chore.
Inside my head a box of issues all make war.
I'm poorer, than said church mouse.
The lord be praised, I still have my house.
Never used to be this messed up.
I have letters attached to the end of my name.
RGN.
Means nothing more than emotional pain.
Sooner it stood for wild pen.
At least my pen it doth release the piles of ******* from the top of the heap.
Let's me breathe and gives me peace.
Sick to death of eternal struggle.
My life is just one freaking muddle.
Kind and caring, always a curse.
Comes under the pseudonym, had enough nurse!
(C) LIVVI