Whats with that?

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Whats with that?

Nothing ever gose according to plan.
Everything always blows up in my face.
No matter how hard i fuckin try.
My life still shatters all over the place.
My tears are flowing stedy.
My face is going numb.
My heart is being draind.
my brain is getting dumb.
Conversation turned to nothing.
Activities are dead.
one more fucking day like this, im gonna loose my head.

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Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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mollywog’s Poems (8)

Title Comments
Title Comments
DIE 1
Sanity check 2
Don't they C? 0
Hello. Is somebody there? Who are you? 1
Whats with that? 0
DO 0
What? 0
PUKE 1

mollywog’s Friends (2)