I like simplicity,
I adore routines,
So that I can predict what happens next,
So that it’s guaranteed.
Life doesn’t work that way,
The wheels of fate,
Bound and determined to make me afraid,
And ruin my plans.
I start to panic,
And go manic,
When things change from the normal.
I wish to disappear,
And return,
When things are back to normal.
It’s a habit,
Hard to break it,
But I’m working on it,
To not panic,
And go manic,
When the routine breaks in two.
It’s a journey,
With the ending,
Nowhere in sight.
I’ll keep trying,
And defying,
The odds,
To make things right.
Routine is my friend,
And my enemy,
Bound,
For eternity.

Though today wasn’t the best,
Perhaps tomorrow will be better.
A commonplace belief.
Founded upon a simple ray of hope,
Sometimes, that’s all we need.
I’ll dream about a peaceful tomorrow,
One without the strife of today,
Tomorrow’s a new day,
At least, that’s what they say.
I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.
I’ll hope and pray,
That tomorrow’s better than today.

A boy’s wandering heart,
Dreaming and envisioning the perfect partner.
Hoping and praying they aren’t already taken.
Hiding and lying his true self,
Deflecting and protecting till he meets her.
Questioning and wondering if she’s even out there.
Breaking and crumbling under pressure,
Crying and trying to keep moving forward.
Thinking and finding that he was mistaken,
Learning and knowing that people can be heartless.
Waiting and standing back at the start.
Searching and scouring for the one,
Hoping and praying she hasn’t found someone.
Perhaps I need to leave my small pond,
Then I’ll find the one.

Sometimes it’s best,
To hold one’s tongue,
And take what you can get,
The alternative,
Is often worse.
Listen to their screams,
Their complaints,
As they say,
You’re the villain,
The hypocrite,
The one in the wrong.
Ignore the voices,
In your head,
That wonder if they’re right.
Sometimes it’s just best,
To tolerate insolence,
Rather than risk,
Corruption.

Sometimes,
I don’t feel anything,
Not something bad,
Just nothing at all.
Head feels clouded with fog,
The contagious, corruptive smog.
Slowly,
Killing,
Me,
From the inside out,
One day,
I’ll be free,
From this apathy.
I’ll learn to care again,
I’ll find myself again,
I will…

Always the cloud,
Blocking out my sun,
Filling me with darkened thoughts,
Never any fun.
Makes me question the point,
Wondering if the struggle is worth the ending.
Always suffering,
For what?
Eventually, the clouds will move on,
My sun will resurface,
I’ll hide my pain behind a smile,
And walk on,
For what am I to do?

This year, lunchtime seems to drag on,
When previously, before I knew it, it was gone.
What has changed?
It isn’t time.
It’s the sorrowful realization,
That friends can fade,
Just like the rain,
Before you know it,
Gone.
The silence,
Deafening,
The consequences,
Terminal,
I’ll never be the same.