PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I seem to be a bad book to read.
one with too many missing pages.
not worth the time to see.
I have no cover and no summary.
to why I act and am the way that I be.

So seemingly due people agree
finding something in common seems to be impossible to me
the addict no good kid with a low income future
make people believe my dreams are faded
for I am jaded mean and outspoken
disregard your two cents
and blow through you like bullet holes
with my words leaving open wounds to your fragile style

I seem to isolate myself
Rather alone than annoying company
so I guess I am shady kid with a short fuse.
I dpn't consider your feelings when I tick.
I am a fire that no one can exiunish
so I just sit back and relinquish anyone who comes near.
I suffer from this relocation and the lack of fitting in that I just attack
anyone looking in at a possible friend
but this wall I put up and just pretend
they dont exist becuase I am forever pissed
at the ghosts in my pasts and dreams leaving me here with these ignorant people.
I give no second chances let alone a first.
I like wallowing i am addicted
to the pain, the stress of this mess of abandonment and lifeless flesh

I refuse help and snare people in my verbal traps.
using cheap shot low blows of their flaws when I find my self frustrated.
irrational thoughts and irrational anger take flight
and I fight for it is a way to release this stress building up inside of me.