I'm certainly not
exquisite in how I word
out my true feelings.

I can't paint a Van
Gogh of my emotions for
you, nor would I try.

I don't even know
why I feel the way I feel,
it simply spews out.

It's as though there's just
one little string holding me
back that I can't find.

If only I could
figure out what it is I
want out of this life.

Maybe then I could
stop writing poems I don't
like and start living.