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late night thinking cause my bottle is empty
Lost and confused
Dazed from this booze
Why go through this abuse?
It’s the path I choose
Trying to find who I am
My soul, feels like its damned
From all the strife that be crammed
Inside my heart, creates hate I hold in my hands
Cupped to keep it from spilling
Adding everyday, if I had a shilling
For every drop im hilting
Id be making a killing
I am not happy with the way
Life’s turning out each day
Makes me want to fade away
Like ones distant memories
All of a sudden next to me
Anger!!
Depression!!!
Sadness!!!
Loneliness!!!!!!
Feel like I am owed some bliss
But that’s earned I know this
Could fate lend a kiss?
To help me get out of this pinch
Stabbed by these needles of woe
Acupuncture, its not this I know
No therapeutic practices could show
Me the brighter side, when will I glow?
I don’t know. This drink was the catalyst
Life im feeling lost in this
I think my problem is I just lack confidence
Self respect also does not exist
Why, why am I like this? I ask
Why in despair do I bask
A closeted poet, amongst the mass
Of other vestures in the batch
Just trying to find to what I fit
Happiness
Love
Stability
Is what I want to catch
I may be wrong but
Some of us don't find our calling or purpose until late in life, where we grow, traveling the wrong path, which gives us a misconception of what life really is
Thinking About Drinking
A Note From The Mass Batch: At least you know WHERE you are. WHAT you're doing is writing fine lines. Like finding bliss, great lines do indeed emerge from work ~~A~~
i know where i am and hate
i know where i am and hate it. i feel like i lack ambition. i feel like life is calling and ive yet to find mine. i do find bliss in the lines i write they are the only thing i can finish and the only thing im proud of