Let this be the last time I wish for something
that's not completely shit
Every year I make blind mistakes
full of vain hope and derelict promise
Will I ever really change?
My old ways are embedded too finely
They have infected my brain and spirit such that
untangling the two might risk a short-circuit
I am such a muddled mess
Will next year really be any different?
YOU ARE READING
A Meaningless Collection
PoetryA collection of variously themed poems that I write mostly on my commute to class or when I can't find a reason to fall asleep.
