PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Walking out of my house to another slow day,

where most of it is spent making memories go away,

hardly wait at night for my bed to warm up,

cause i'm always exhausted and torn up,

don't hey hun me, where have you been?

do you expect me to be the same again,

and again and again, until the end of time,

dying all alone, always privately wine and dine,

running back to the safety of nothing,

i gotta find good somewhere, i deserve something,

i know we're never given more then we can manage,

but lately it feels like i was given the New York Jets to manage,

the Mets to sign players or the Colts to rebuild,

let em drop an atom bomb, the hole will be refilled,

the radiation will harm me like the fallout of us,

because of her i find it hard to trust.