Slowly burning it glazes my eyes
a sorrow so pitiful, quietly it cries
excitement subdued, older but not ready,
my mind exhausted as I go on twenty

I feel shattered, these past years I resent -
a chance to live life, but in mundanity they were spent
'tis only now that I can see those wasted years
older and wiser and closer to my fears

my ego blames others, alas the fault lies with myself
insecure, selfish and obsessed with wealth,
serendipity being the most lethal disease
becoming the recluse I strived so hard to appease

at times I'm angry, the fury both caustic and draining
and if it's not my hygiene it's my love that is waning
blood black, clumpy and running thicker
soul cold-hearted, callous, self-centred and bitter

I care about nothing, no one, only about how it all could've been better
oh why should looking back make my heart heavier?

March 12th 1996, the day I started my graceless fall

this Saturday I'll be 20

but I simply don't want to be older at all.

20 years wasted.