............tired now.

i feel as if ive been repeating myself
perhaps i have
           no words are flowwing from these fingertips that dont taste stale on the tongue
piercing to the ear
 im tired sick fed up with everything around me
                            i miss him desperately
though he is but a rat
a kid who cant will not refuses to grow up
             and i just cant marry peterpan
cant live in his fantasy world
                          cause i just want to see the real thing
           so we both agreed that rat and i
            that its the end this dreams over
hell keep to his drugs and i to my words my art
                             *scream* *hits wall* defeated
i cant begin to explain these stale vapid words dont articulate it well nothing ever will
no wonder theres a never ending supply of poetry stories songs aboout love and death pain joy or sorrow
for how can you ever truly explain something
is anything correct
 im losing faith in the one thing i hold so dear
                       with out my words who am i?
         but at the moment these things disgust me each syllable is wrong
                                every sentence a disgrace. and now im tired.

Reviews

[Bard Constantine]

One the hardest thing is to translate thoughts to words. I've worked for years on the craft, but still am dissatisfied 90 percent of the time with my writing. So I can relate to the feeling of frustration from the inability to articulate. Somehow, we keep trying though. Despite being tired, this piece still manages to carry your feelings across. Nice work...