Stories

Where the sun sets over the ocean

It’s another day and I am still wrong.
Just another day but the same old song
You can’t keep quiet and just play along
And people say I’m bloody headstrong

Every choice that I choose, every decision I make
Doesn’t matter the outcome it’s always a mistake
Your comments apparently not meant to cause heartbreak
But every night I go to bed with a thumping headache

The constant cries of poor kid are getting fucking old
On hurtful comments you definitely have the stranglehold
It’s because for all this time you’ve been let go uncontrolled
That I wake up every day feeling like I’ve got a head cold

I know it’s got a lot to do with being over stressed
And for way too long things have been oppressed
But the build up of shit has left me depressed
And it’s no wonder I’m finding myself looking west

It’s my goddamn life, for once I want to narrate
I don’t care if my choices don’t seem adequate
Wrong or right why the fuck can’t I navigate?
Yet you still wonder why I’d want to relocate

I maybe harsh to say but I have a priority of four
It doesn’t mean that rest wont be seen any more
It doesn’t mean any of the others are uncared-for
It just means that these four I will never ignore

2 Comments

  1. Hmm, not your usual slice and dice. But I’m just trying to figure you out…..maybe…probably not.

    • If you figure me out tell me. TBH I don’t know what there is to figure out, the stories and poems are just writing, it’s good that people can find meaning in them but half of them aren’t written with that much meaning. I read a poem yesterday that sums up my words, I’m just waiting for the right thing to put the quote in.

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