Here lies
A poet
Whose life wasn't the most fun
wasn't a good person
Wasn't a good son
But
Eagerly
And sincerely
He tried to be
one
Did he have dreams? Maybe
Did he achieve them? Partly
But does that matter now?
Not really
atleast now
He's sleeping
Quietly
Never to be disturbed again
By the world's follies
YOU ARE READING
A Madman's Attempt at Writing
PoetryNothing to see here. Just a guy writting down his misery. Please move along
