So many times I’ve tried my dear
To simplify the way I feel,
I wonder what word would mean,
The whole of what I’m to reveal.

I’ve tried physics & calculus,
To calculate these heavy thoughts
I’ve tried trigonometry as well as geometry
But the unknown increase by three.

So what I used is algebra,
To solve for all formula,
And by the aid of geometry,
I got the answer;
one(1) four(4) three(3)

You can't see me
You've talked to me once
But forgot about it
My apologies about this order of fashion
But I knew my chances were slender
I'm not your type
You can't see us
We are looking forward to this
We are the kids with the jackets and blue jeans
We try so hard and will never forget
You're not our friend but acquittance
You are hereby advised to independently leave us alone
You hurt us
You've hurt me multiple occasions
I don't care much anymore
You cant see yourself

there are a hundred and fifty pokemon
but only one of you
you are the legendary love that i could never catch

i remember kissing your Meowth and it was beautiful and fierce

do you remember, darling, the way you Jinxed our stars

You Charmandered me, left my cheeks pink and rosy
Gave me an Electabuzz
The heat rose to my face every time we locked eyes

(i always was a bit Oddish)

I want to Pikachu when you don't think I'm looking, as you stroll through the crowds of your own thoughts

But you Rapidashed out of my life.

Is it Farfetch'd to wonder if you ever think of the Eeveening under the stars
When you said there was no Chansey that we could ever be together

Well
I remember
And I say
Ditto
to that.

the Man is no longer a Man
in this day and age
he is a strange Middle-Aged Boy
an Aging Adolescent
hair going grey
with the hours whittled away
on Xbox video games

the Man that is a Man
is of a bygone age
The Real Man in the films of old
Age-ed Anachronism
strong and proud and brave
standing tall to face the day
and keep the wolves at bay

that I am a Man-who-is-not-a-Man
a product of this modern age
has vexed my Heart and Soul
my Arrested Ascension
how can I always play
when a Real Man works all day
but really who's to say?

the Boy is also a Man
in our culture at this stage
in truth both young and old
Advancing Adolescence
we get to play our lives away
yet still have bills to pay
the balance of the middle way

I am a Boy and I am a Man
by internal and external age
work only to play is my road
an Admirable Aspiration
that I get to live My Way
a little boyhood every day
is the great gift of this age

**** it
I'll be okay

Never could small talk
Clumsy awkward and disheveled
Fitted in by fitting out

This is no perfect other for me I'm convinced
I'm to old
Broke
Tired
Weird and can't carry a thought to fruition


All of my life I have been looking
Hoping to find a lover
She must have not been born

Scary thought dying without next of kin
Then again there will be no sorry and pain
No grieving
Which is good

Once there was a lady called Bright
Who could travel faster than Light
One day, she set out on a friend's way
And returned the previous night