In My Thoughts

Me

How does he keep going on, knowing what he does is wrong. No approval, no acceptance. Shooting words around like weapons. Tongue of silver, heart of gold. Anything he says is sold. To those willing to hear, the poison he speaks in their ears. He says he's happy. He says he's fine. Afraid to show what's on his mind. He'd be rejected, he'd be cast out. But they don't know what he's about. So at his home he sits alone, repressing all his tears. thinking that it just might help. To down a few more beers. He hits the bottle when he's sad. With nothing more to lose. He tries to wash his pain away, by drinking some more booze. He tries to vent, and write a rhyme. He spills his feelings in every line. he doesn't speak, he doesn't share. Engulfed in the illusion, that no one cares. Night by night, day by day. He's always wishing the world away. His choices to be alone, have always been his own. So don't feel sorry, or sympathy. Because that pathetic man, is only me....