Nothing
Nothing in common with anyone
rage, rage, rage
written off a page
Even the music doesn't speak to me
people tying too hard
to fit into another ethnicity
Not of that generation
don't even speak the same language
hard to believe this is real
With a partner
head butting another
the blandness is all the same
I don't think that another drink
could possibly make me inevitably sink
when world views simply clash and stink
Maybe I'm being too hard
mixing whiskey and vodka
until the world starts to blur
But I concur,
this stinking world-
so sick of the hurt
mathiasthom
written 7/17/11
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.