I'm exhausted...
Deeply sincerely tired...
How do I still have strength to continue,
When I have no one to admire?
The idiot I was,
The idiot I am now;
I keep letting my emotions get to me,
Yet I don't know how.
Now I can't feel love,
Now I don't know who to trust;
Every time I have something awesome,
It just ends up like rust.
I feel defeated,
I feel depressed;
I feel anxious,
I feel like a mess.
The Puerto Rican Idiot,
Yeah that's me,
The one who claimed to kill the poetic side,
And is now making poems to feel free.
From Contradiction to My Obsession,
I really make no sense;
I guess it's because of all the damage I had,
Due to the lack of defense.
As my heart grow colder,
Hard as a stone;
I'm now an idiot who can't socialize IRL,
But can easily talk on the phone.
HoundRebel is me,
JLCC was the poet;
I guess I have to take his place now,
I have to make the most for it.
I miss writing cheesey love poems,
I miss having someone to make happy;
I miss those good old days,
Where I didn't constantly feel crappy.
I can't love anymore,
But I sure as hell miss it;
But I guess everything has it's time,
So I need to stay patient a bit.
As time runs down,
I need to make every second count;
A third time is a charm,
I know I can win this bout...
YOU ARE READING
404 Error
Poetry"Not Found" Sometimes poets can evolve into what they don't like. Searching for the old poet will end up down the path of not being able to find him.
