Waiting

This is a poem I wrote while thinking of my life.

I love to do it, yet it chains

I have no power to be brave

It's nights like these

Why I hate sleep

And there's a bother to be free

I have no brother to count sheeps

Or secret lover under sleeves

I have the power to be cheap

Still, there's no other just like me

I did it my way, no longer old

On the highway to be sold

There's no friday on the road

That's why this desert feels so cold

I wanna dance and be somebody

With lots of friends and drunk in party

With better stance and never muddy

That's Kurt Cobain, I still can taste it

I lived in vain and always wasted

I wasted tears and naive love

Still have the fears to free my dove

That's why so many times I've stopped

They interrupt so dimes I've dropped

Author's Note

this is the first poem I wrote in a long period