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While voice is raised and arms are flailing
the rest of me is failing
Good luck it seems
a mystery, a path all of its own

Believe in me? Belief in dreams
I entertain you silently,
but still you cast a shady eye
like you’re the expert...who am I?

Fuck your judgement, your religion,
your annoying, daft opinion
A penny on a pile of shit,
a comment on the internet..

But why then try?
I curse and lie,
to those I feel that matter most
A silent groan,
I bitch and moan
It’s bittersweet, it’s just like home...



P.S.- I love you guys



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On Monday March 12th, 2007, raskal (215) writes:
the cynic in me loves this..but who am I?



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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/14515/92850 on Wednesday December 03rd, 2008 02:34 AM

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