Okay, so I'm a really, really, really, really (ad infinitum) bad poet ... but needed to blurt this mess out ....

Too much?  Too little.  I get it.

Always a silly thought, a distraction …

Never real, never actually – there.

Tired, so so tired it hurts.

 

Life is like that, to be sure.

Trickery and consumption,

Ideals and dreams forgotten

Amidst do this, be this, do that!

 

But maybe I’ll rebel?

Shock and maim – sorry for that …

Or Not? Who will care?

Is this for you or for me?

 

Dance the dance,

Tell the story -

But make it new,

your own invention

Create a melody that is you,

Purely you

 

Hear it, feel it

Let it fill the silence

That deafens you