Embarrassing Poems by a Young Hobo #13 (Poem to ME pt. 1)
This is long, so I'm breaking it up into sensible bits. I wouldn't bother, but I didn't half mind it. C. 2014? That seems wrong, I don't think the last edit date on this one is accurate.
Poem to ME (pt. 1)
i should give up feeling, but i wont even try
because theres a million feelings to feel, and thats not even the tip
of the iceburg that im on, and my heart is shredded and snags and rips on
the littlest thing right now while i breathe sharp little drunk breaths
its making a fucking mess and i try to clean it up but i just make more of a mess
and on one side of town, my soul is at rest, tattered and its messed
and every little occasion could seem to be the best
but i give up on trying to beat the rest,
and every little thing is a mind numbing, horrible test
of my patience, my virtue, is this way true,
will this prove to be my way through
this trough is full of stink and grime and demise, my ties
to the world could result in meaningful lies
not the nice ones where you feel good after you hear them,
the nasty dirty horrible ones where youre left stomped and beaten upon
where the grease is smeared on, like a filthy beggar.