I wrote a poem, and I set is aside
But the words leapt off the page as if they were on fire
I wanted it to be the beginning of the end
Of a land where I grow restless, longing to hit SEND
Should there ever be that one final piece
Which claims the conclusion to this beast?
Would there ever be that final scrawl across the page
That left me so satisfied, I never again felt the rage
Perhaps I should look longer
For the keys to success couldn’t be farther
When you cast a wide net, you hope for a bigger catch
You work diligently, hoping for that match
And at long last, when you’ve made the journey for the solution
All you are left with is zero absolution
Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 7:39 PM UTC
I wrote a poem, and I set is aside
But the words leapt off the page as if they were on fire
I wanted it to be the beginning of the end
Of a land where I grow restless, longing to hit SEND
Should there ever be that one final piece
Which claims the conclusion to this beast?
Would there ever be that final scrawl across the page
That left me so satisfied, I never again felt the rage
Perhaps I should look longer
For the keys to success couldn’t be farther
When you cast a wide net, you hope for a bigger catch
You work diligently, hoping for that match
And at long last, when you’ve made the journey for the solution
All you are left with is zero absolution
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