Poetry journal

A tired washout

I stare at the hard workers, the heroes, and the talented.

Did I not work hard enough? I have had all the motivation and tried hard.

Day one I wasted paint and tap water. I know everyone makes mistakes.

Wasting everything trying to figure out what to become.

What did I become? I just want people to see how great I can be.

Trying on clothes, playing someone fictional. Once again failed.

Repeating practicing for the things I liked.

Now there’s nothing you can do anymore, so keep trying my ass.