I grow weary
I grow weary of the endless game of drugs, sleep and shakes,
how some have not lost their minds, so much sometimes to take.
In the late hours of the night, when I am alone and trying to sleep,
I wonder if I should do more with these hours I keep.
I wake at half day nothing to show for the time,
trying desperate not to cry and tell everyone I'm fine.
Why can I not cope like others who have tested fate,
am I so weak that I can't do better at least for heaven's sake?
I tell myself to stop using the word "I" and replace it with "U"
get ahold of myself, get on with the day, and find something to do.
I will stop this rambling of pity and get back my creative soul,
But i always put it off till the next day, always the first goal.
So if you should find and read this, I do apologize,
just know this was a moment, and not my entire life.