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Quinton Weston
Poems
Mar 2013
Counting
I sit here.Hunched over my computer computing
What will become of me?
This lonely mess of an almost man is mostly at wits end
But just when it counts
Like blanking out on a test that can’t be redone
Its no one’s fault
But all my fault
Though statistics say you can only fail just so much
But just enough to feel like maybe just one more try
Just one more try
Which turns into two
Three
Four
Then You find yourself counting backwards
Waiting for time to be up
So you can hand in your paper
So you can convince yourself its the way it had to be
Or at least the way it is
You look at it objectively
You omit words like I and feel
So you can still sleep at night
Or at least not cry in plane sight
So you can still fight
Just one more time
One more time away from oblivion
Cause one is all you need
For its the last step that kills you
That throws you from that cliff
That precipice
From wince you can never return
So i make sure i’m always one step behind
That fine line
Between giving in
And getting up
But eventually you get tired
Of standing. Disappointed.With nothing much to show for it
But a pat on the back and a better luck next time
With that hope in your eyes
But it hurts,almost like sand
Till the tears dissolve it
and all thats left is a brutal reality
Thats must worse than we deserve
But then you look at it objectively
And know.It must be just what you deserve
Which is too much for all the kind words in the world to reverse
So I stand.
Counting forwards.
Counting backwards
But always stopping at one
Written by
Quinton Weston
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