Wear socks to warm my soul up
Don't drink water 'cause of my full cup
I'm usually tired so I take syrup
And hope one day I won't wake up
I sit at night thinking towards dead
Lyrics and numbers rush 'round my head
Nothing is focused on top my bed
A time I wait for, a time I dread
I find it easy to make long lists
Of every reason not to exist
And every reason why I resist
To turn my gun to a fist
I'm happier now at least I thought
Since fact is laughing cures not
Part of motive has started to rot
And my mind is already tying a knot
from new book Nights
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Poetic Attempts
RandomI suck at poetry, but I've been told I'm very good at it. [Most likely depressing]
