I spent a good portion of the day
Writing poetry I'll never publish
Competing against people I'll never see.
The faux-socially aware
Stand on the shoulders of the confused,
My enemies have solidified over the years.
I'm a rolling stone
Never giving my contemporaries
The privilege of emotion.
Cold and uncalculating.
The only girl I tell myself I truly love
Has thrown away my notebook
In a fit of rage. I had written
Of another girl not unfamiliar.
