Forgetting how good I have it
Abusing my advantages, an insult
to those who believe in me
Perhaps I'm not meant to be
what I want to be...

I think I have a problem
Oh primeval instinct, take from me
what I've worked for
Take what I've dreamed to achieve

A beer for breakfast a bud for tea
Screaming in my head the hilarious
irony of; "why does it always rain on me?!"
Smiling forever because I'm a joke

I dream of writing a book about my life
Consistently fictional, to seem to the reader as though it is as dark as it feels
But I can't write as the curtain closes