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Mar 2013
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
  781
   st64 and bambi
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