If you're fairly good at
Making other people hate,
And you have no desire
To really be that great;
If you aren't the type of friend
To want to be so nice
And lying to the world
to seem perfect will suffice;
If you like to keep a guard,
pretend the world's your oyster
Instead of letting go
of this wild rollercoaster
That life is when you hold onto
Every formed excuse,
The beauty and the glory
of having nothing left to lose,
Then take a number,
No more, no less
And climb aboard
The Excuse Express.
The captain waits.
No service will come.
The trip is long
And not so fun,
But at least
you can take a rest
For no one will
ever again expect
You to ever try your best
Because you won't be that important.
But hey, look on the bright side!
No more work! No hate!
No judgmental thoughts
or expecting stares await!
No more thinking,
No more you,
And nothing really else to do,
So long as you always
have your excuse-
The ticket that's all you need.
Why even bother attempting
to become a perfect ten?
You know you'll never reach it
Yet still you try again?
That never happens,
Not on board the Excuse Express,
Where every single passenger
has forfeited their best,
In exchange for only being
allowed a little rest.
No longer in the running
for any more than less.
So if you are the type
to always need a crisis
To make you feel important
And forget you're not the nicest,
Then I think this train to hell
Could fit your person very well
All you need is an excuse to tell
To climb aboard and ride.
Take a number,
Your ticket too,
If everything's
what you want to lose.
Because that train's misleading and
This poem is a joke.
You are not a maple and
You are not an oak.
And yes I know that's kind of weird but unless you are a tree,
Know that you can move from here
To where you're meant to be.
But if you stop and surrender to
The misleading Excuse Express,
The train runs on your energy
And soon you'll have none left.
None left to go to where you need
And none to use to try to feed
The determination you once had
Sooner or later, you'll go mad.
And maybe you'll then decide you do
In fact desire to be great.
And by that point, I'm sorry,
But it just may be too late.
So find your passion and thrive before
you're weak and fall, succumbing,
Before you lose your everything, and
Before you feel the numbing
and can't care about your life
That's probably only just begun.
Maybe try another time
before deciding that you're done.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Vote, Comment,
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~Dustin the Great
YOU ARE READING
The Things I Leave Unsaid
PoesíaMy thoughts in poems. I'm not suicidal or even truly unhappy. I'm just confused and lost and I hope someone out there understands. These are the everyday thoughts I have that float around in my mind. This is my life, in poems. I like my poems and I...