I'd be lying if I said I didn't at least wish
For things to be a little different
But I chose each of these paths branching
And sometimes I want to weep
Alone in the forest with the willows
But I sigh deeply and alone
In a mountain of soft pillows
So I suppose things could be worse

I know so many more sunrises are coming
And there's still time for transformation
But it's hard to rise and not want to sleep
And these molehills seem so steep

I'd be lying if I said I have been content
There's just no excitement anymore
I used to be vibrant neon sweet
Now I feel like a box of stale cornflakes
With an AARP discount on the back
A water damaged readers digest
Scrambling to try and find the cool me
In this sea of melancholy poetry