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After the day is almost done Tears fall from my face I try to keep doing right But they keep telling me to quicken the pace   I try to hold back the anger But it is all in vain  So many feelings
To be one to fear pain. To be one to feel pain. To fear the thought of fearing pain. Puts more fear in your heart. It's like stress on stress on frustration on pain. To have no release, nor escape, not only from pain but from life.
It has been one of those days, Where I don't care if she goes or stays. Deadlines passed me by, And bosses expressed their dissapointment. It was generally a day, Of emotional excrement.  
I guess I'm somewhat used to thisIt's normal, more or lessThe games that we don't know we playAre really just a test
Do you expect me To believe That I will think of the breeze When I’m bursting with seared ash? Do you expect me To lose myself Into the galaxy
I sit up online Trying to forget my past The old memory of mine It breaks me fast
When do we become grown-ups? Is it when we can go down big waterslides alone Or when we can do a thousand sit-ups? Is it when we start driving Or when we stop making stupid slip-ups?  
I “Nothing is set in stone; besides, I don’t even know what I want. I don’t care about your hopes and dreams; my needs matter so much more.”   II
Why do I write poetry?
Subscribe to frustrations