Monday, August 17, 2015

There's no trying in wasteball

Well, it came as a surprise on a balmy day
this feeling in size that grew out of a the bay
of the still waters that carry belief,
if only I was a better me I'd not have this grief.

Fuck that shit. I'm sick and tired of wasted trying.

Trying to do all the things I was told that would bring
me to happiness and riches of gold... worn out and old.

Trying to please everyone in my space who gives me their
time and just smirks at my face... in a moment of their
precious time and space. I smile at the mischief as they
have stolen my face. Another smirk that is hard to erase.
I tried to play, I cry inside, and I'm laughing at sickness
that I was trying to hide.

Come out, come out, wherever you are... Huckle Buckle Beanstalk
you live in a glass jar... and it 's jarring.

I could see years wasted in trying and good, and throw in some hope
for good measure too, trying is tiring but it's the right thing to do...

for a soap on a rope or a pretty clean dope. 

A wasteland has pasted my intentions on a wall, it's
pretty confusing but I've dropped the ball. I can't try anymore...
it's not really what I was looking for. A like is pathetic when your
looking to score. No one cares that you're trying to's a snore,
and a colossal bore. I'll not try anymore.

A perfect desire is a prefect disaster... are you really sure of what
you are after? It takes a while and a toll as well, trying and hoping
is another road to hell. Been there and done that, but it seems so right...

But not right now and not tonight.

I'm wasting my time on a nowhere flight.

Tomorrow it will be out of mind and outta sight. All right! Dang. Duh...

it will be less of a fight.

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