Calling It A First Draft, Is Really Just My Excuse.
I’ve wasted.
I’ve longed for.
I’ve ignored.
I’ve denied.
I’ve hidden.
I’ve been disinterested.
I’ve cheated it.
I’ve lied.
I’m potentially perfect.
I have options
And choices.
Or so I’ve been told,
In jealous, shrill voices.
I could have.
I should have.
I would have,
But didn’t.
I might have.
I possibly
I planned to,
But didn’t.
I am quick-witted,
Uninterested,
Smart,
Apathetic.
I am wasting,
I’ve wasted,
And continue to do so.
I am insufferable,
Terrible,
wasting your time.
I’m a fool,
With many options,
And choices I wish weren’t mine.
I secretly know,
The square root of eight,
The twenty-seven president,
And capital of every state.
I know the definition of catastrophe,
The symbol for iron,
And my so called “terrible” fate.
I’m wasting,
I’ve wasted,
And still waste your time.
I’ve longed for.
I’ve ignored.
I’ve denied.
I’ve hidden.
I’ve been disinterested.
I’ve cheated it.
I’ve lied.
I’m potentially perfect.
I have options
And choices.
Or so I’ve been told,
In jealous, shrill voices.
I could have.
I should have.
I would have,
But didn’t.
I might have.
I possibly
I planned to,
But didn’t.
I am quick-witted,
Uninterested,
Smart,
Apathetic.
I am wasting,
I’ve wasted,
And continue to do so.
I am insufferable,
Terrible,
wasting your time.
I’m a fool,
With many options,
And choices I wish weren’t mine.
I secretly know,
The square root of eight,
The twenty-seven president,
And capital of every state.
I know the definition of catastrophe,
The symbol for iron,
And my so called “terrible” fate.
I’m wasting,
I’ve wasted,
And still waste your time.