Rant

Maybe I'm just out of my mind
Sometimes I just want to go blind
Got lost in time
Lost in between the lines

I hate how sometimes I rhyme
And repeat words as if I
Don't know what or how to write
But then again, I'm no poet, never was

These poems are never good
But at least they are true
I'm feeling sick and blue
I can't seem to enjoy myself too

Ok, so I'll stop with the rhymes
I don't have to do it every time I write
But I just can't help it
Some times they just come naturally

And I lose track of the reason behind the writing
Maybe I'm just trying
To keep it busy, this mind of mine
Crazy as it sounds, I'm not feeling fine

Even when I'm with them
I don't feel like I did back then
GOD, LOOK AT THESE RHYMES
I FEEL LIKE I'M WRITING A POP SONG

Maybe it's the proof that I suck at writing
As well as I suck at living
That basically sums it up
I'm ranting about being alive, so original
I'm pathetic

I don't hate them, I love them
Maybe too much
I hate myself and the voice
And how it surrounds me
I feel ashamed of how weak I am

Too much expectations
For being a better person
Maybe I think that I'm bigger than I actually am
I'm just a basket case
Holding my heart like a hand grenade
Blackmailing everyone with my lack of faith
They don't deserve this shit.