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So I almost broke down again But I've grown too much for that But not too much to think So I look at all of this At everything I think I've done In the last three years All of it From being lead to believe In some untitled piece (of self indulging crap) To finding I'm enthralled With one more obsession in "Waiting" (and knowing that I want it) Profiting from pain Every missed heart beat Or stagnant tear Recorded and exploited Every vindictive stab And I am sickened by myself My wallowing in misery I did not create my own pain But I relished it Finding comfort inside bitterness Screaming into the eye Of a simple spring drizzle How long can I last? Thriving on pain Selling it like some cheap whore For a bit of peace That I know won't come
3 responses total.
I know it's not finished, I'm not sure that it can be finished
"Finding comfort inside bitterness" - Hmm, I kinda like this one. <ugh is amused> One thing that sorta distracted me, right at the beginning both lines 2 & 3 begin with "but"...
You know you're a poet when everybody tells you that a poem is finished but you know it's not. This is very good, Joe. Very evocative of several emotions with which I am very familiar.
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