I am spontaneously disorganized
A true procrastinating freak,
nothing I make is ever finished
And my vocabulary is weak.


I am an artistic space cadet
Wandering aimlessly on this earth,
I speak in dyslexic phrases
Pondering life and its worth.


I am a low-self esteemed hero
A stumbling lost soul,
Hoping that I wont burn out
Into a heap of ash and coal.






Someday we will find meaning
Someday we will find hope,
Yet knowing that someday is not close enough
And wishing we did not know.

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