I'm no musical prodigy,
so I quit.
I'm no baker,
so I stopped.
I'm no artist,
so I dropped the pen.
I believed I wasn't good at anything,
but I was wrong.
I'm good at giving up,
so I might as well keep doing it.
Surely these pills will help.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of a Neurotic Insomniac
PoetryLet's see how this goes. It's time for this sleep-deprived, emotionally-unstable creature to write some shit down.
