Maybe I don't fucking get it
Maybe I just can't fuck with it
Everything was beautiful
One of those tears well in your eyes
You fall to your knees type of enchantments
The curtains close
The audience throws roses on the stage
Type of thing
That I once opposed
I was a sucker
For temporary affection
So when that spot light shined on me
I gave them a show
I gave them someone they wanted to know
I gave them entertainment that had them coming back for more
Until it was time for them to go home
Sorry for the inconvenience I have a life to attend to
A night I must rekind' too
I fell upon my knees in disgust
They just wanted a show
Of satisfaction to distract them from their everyday critical thought and actions
A sense of belonging in a faction was all I ever wanted
So maybe I don't want to fucking get it
Maybe it wasn't my birthright to fuck with it
// e.b.
YOU ARE READING
THE FUNDAMENTALS OF A REALIST
PoesíaA collection of my thoughts in poems that reflects my life before, after, and during being associated with my first love as well as my creative impulses. a poetic photograph of May 2015- October 2015. ***BEWARE PROFANITY***
