Tirelessly pulling my weight
I do so hope that I'm not late
To be tardy again would mean certain death
And honestly, my fight has nothing left
I ring the doorbell, people pleaser
He opens up, looks too eager
Says sit down, I do oblige
Does he know it's him I despise?
He lifts a hand, cracks a whip
I cover my face, it catches my lip
Falling to the floor, I cower before him
My situation looks all too grim
But I have been here before
He'll stop in a minute, he'll crack one more
And right when I believe my own words
My world goes black, I fly with the birds
At least I am gone now, at least there's that
But wait, he pulls another trick out of his hat
I awake with screams, right where I laid
He's coming at me like he's getting paid
This is it, the repetition of my life
Press replay, 'cause I'm in for another night
And when you finish this, begin again
Over and over, until your head starts to swim...
k.g
YOU ARE READING
colorless
PoetryIn this instant, I see it all so clearly; while colors are such a vivid asset in his book of pictures, I have realized that the reason I do not fit in this title is because I am simply devoid of color. I am c o l o r l e s s. I am nothing but slathe...
