Untitled
A life more ordinary than any story is crafted before me
and every facet of my existence is based around the fact
that when I'm gone, I won't be missed,
Still they'll insist on sifting through my bones
to reconstruct these broken poems
brought on by suburban America, and life in a "normal" home
But the enemy was always within me, see, from the time I turned 13
I tried constantly to break free from the precepts of society
And as time went by, I breathed an air I perceived to be
clean from everything conceived in me
that the culture of my youth told me to believe
I carried them around on my brain like weights, they constantly drained
my mind of every pain and negative aspect that being human lays claim to
And when I came to, I had a pain that had bled through
a hole in my brain that opened along with my eyes
and out went the lies that told me everything would be fine
They told me not to worry
I've got a whole lifetime to grow up, "What's the hurry?"
What's the hurry?!
The hurry is that I'm infuriated by the fact
that I'm going on 21 and I still live at home
The hurry is that I'm worried I might collapse prematurely
not having accomplished everything I wanted to have done
I'm not afraid no one else will hear my song
I'm just afraid it will never get sung.
Copyright © Matthew Williamson | Year Posted 2006
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