It's a bad night
- one of those.
I try a deep breath
through the nose
so it relieves the ache
living in my chest
If only for a moment
I get some rest.
I feel alone
and worthless
angry at the world
stupid, aimless.
Just like the stupid rhyme
of these lines
I feel crappy and shredded
by Naxal landmines.
(see what I mean
I dont even have words
the motivation is dead
but phoenixes are stupid undying birds)
2 comments:
This is deep and reflective. You echo my feelings. See, even when you dabble, the poem turns out to be so nice and profound. The motivation is very much alive and the rhyme is not stupid. Keep writing :)
Thanks, I guess. Writing is non-optional, non-negotiable of survival
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