Suddenly I’m 23 and feeling much older than almost 24,
spirits of forgotten fights linger in my spinning head,
taking a pledge to render me useless as they remind me
of all that I let go. I’ve lost a winning battle just by giving
in to your emptiness. What have I really come too?
Turning a new leaf…just to flip it back over…you
constantly violate me by a single presence. Yet I
can’t give up, but what am I still fighting for? I really
must hang these gloves up, they’ve lived past their prime.
Shortly time will end and things will be as they seem,
a reality in a dream, a hell within its own universe…another
day of demeaning silence and yet I keep expecting you to see
and change…that’s what I get….for expecting a wall to talk
and a tree to change its ways.
Turning away, I must seek a new means to retire the satire
that has become my life, let go of your ineptitude, and
silence the screams inside that I can’t let out.
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