PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

But, I am the Contemptuous Critic

I am the one that analyzes and analyzes until I find something wrong.

But nothing is presenting itself when I look in your direction.



And it's not right,

I can't comfort myself by saying "Well..."

It's not fair,

Because now there isn't a coping method.

I am stuck, remaining lost,

Wandering aimlessly without something to say,

Nothing witty to make you go away,

Nothing to save face.



But I'm not entirely sure I would want to..

I don't think I'd ever try to rid myself of someone that,

Makes me think like you do.

But, I've got to be honest, doll,

It's hurting me more than it's hurting you.

And I don't like to hurt,

It makes me bitter,

It makes me develop calluses,

That shut others out.



And I am sick of running,

I am sick of waiting,

I am sick of everything.



This is my warning, time is running out.

This is my warning, time is running out.

This is my warning, time is running out.



This is my warning...