I’m tired of being tired of being tired.
Was there ever a beginning?
Will there ever be an end?
Of being tired I am; tired,
Such tirade about tired,
Time to hang up; at least I tried,
a tired tirade; for what?
A goodnight’s wave,
that’s all
Random Unsorted Drafts
I can sooo relate to; not being relatable,
in any sense of the word; relate,
F*ck I don’t even like myself;
so how can I expect you to,
These words aren’t even mine;
you know I stole them,
the old lady won’t mind;
I’m fine; honestly honey,
Now plod along; let the words fly,
Before the thieves come;
to ruin you mind,
write; just write.
Note to self: Yes it is late. Yes you should go to bed. But first you should pat yourself on the back. You managed to overcome the fear of picking up the marked assignment and you actually went and did it. Well done! You also managed to read through the tutor’s feedback, but you can ignore the comments they made that you don’t agree with (for now). There will be a day for more reflection tomorrow. You did well this time, remember that. But remember that you still have not reflected on the feedback on the previous assignment yet, so perhaps it would be good to start with that one? Procrastination is a word in dictionary you don’t need to own.
Pray consider; does sharpening the skewer support; or stymie the cause,
Pulling the tail of a lion; fearless howling at the pale-white moon above,
The stronger the swipe; beyond yonder the sanguine fluid squirts,
A roaring death under starlit skies; flickering of doubt no doubt,
Pray consider; before you act; leaving legacies behind; among the stars,
We will always here abide; now as before; now as then; perpetually,
Pray consider; your place in this land; and those you regard as friends
close encounter of the first kind
always is thus; naked in my woods,
and a lake in spring; water and broken ice,
or so I tell myself; doubting my sincerity – serenity,
the path so often taken; today like all the yesterdays,
a rising sun without boundaries;
setting beyond the shards of reflection,
broken with truth in heart; through repetition,
I make my purchase swift; a new set of wings,
on credit; not expecting them to last,
the close encounter with a sun
I am the two worst people in this world,
common enough a folk; still dreaming,
I am the two worst people in this world,
the sand between my toes; medieval,
the drink in my hand; bloody red,
I am the two worst people in this world,
the words of God; translated,
the thoughts of common man; empty,
the turbulence inside one head; telling,
I am the two worst people in this world,
kissing; without lips,
slithering; without hips,
a snake in leopard skin,
fang-less
twitching thumb
Once, now a mere fading
memory of a distant time
far beyond the realms of
that which seems possible;
reliable as a twitching thumb,
I carried a burden upon on
my finger; a ring made of metal,
precious; my precious ring
I do still posses yet never
wear; too brittle my mind,
too thick the finger,
once I proudly wore
a dream nowย
slowly
fading
Muppet
as one that lives in a country
I do not regard as mine,
I see stupidity like never before
revealed before my saddened eyes,
where April will not be followed
by a May in bloom; just disarray,
though mind you I do not regret
staying away from the disjointed
states of the american planes,
with a puppet without strings
like a Muppet with a fist up
his ring; I would have suffered,
I would though have done something
about it; carried that gun so proudly
sold over a Mexican counter; undoubtedly,
I would have made my mind up,
I would have slaughtered the sheep,
I would have drunk the blood of the
innocent; then made my way home to the
house; without regret
