The Pessimist's Trash

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's a poem.

Submitted: March 08, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 08, 2013




He saw the cup half empty

He saw his life a waste, he felt lonely

He saw himself useless, not worthy

Thrown out, cast-out, the rejected, forgotten

He felt as if those words were embedded in his bones

He didn’t ever knew what God had given him

He was supposed to be a pianist, poet, dancer, not to mention a loyal lover

He just didn’t grasp the chance of being one, because of his mind

He thinks that he can’t do it, when even just one mistake was done

He thinks he’s bad at everything he does, he wasn’t great on anything. Not even one

He lives in a cycle, a loop, a circle

Words kept coming in his mind, but he kept silent and wore a mask of smile

Sometimes he wish he died but he realized that he just has a confused mind

Jealousy was his food, insults to himself was his water

Thinking if he even deserves something better

This poem he made, would not be seen anyway

Who would care on a poem made by a trash, words that were thrown away

By this last line, before his pulse goes to a straight line. All he ever wished was a reboot, to his life and mind. In that way he would be a Vine.

© Copyright 2018 Jermz. All rights reserved.

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