Why are these always the same,
It’s either a poem about you,
Or a poem about pain.
Doing this should bring me to shame,
Although they’re my truths,
They lead me towards nothing I’ll gain.
At this point it’s not even a game,
After everything you’d been through,
It’s time I take all the blame.
These repetitions are probably lame,
Thoughts of seeing you soon,
Simply drive me insane.
This fantasy can no longer sustain,
I’m done playing the fool,
It is time to get off of this train.
S.F. – 02/10/2020 – 8:20 p.m.
