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Wake up say what?
My life's a mess.
A pile of crap.
More or less.
Even in my early years.
I had wounded, rusted ears.
I worked a lot,
All the day.
From August first
Till end of May.
I'm not lazy,
Only tired.
Eat the bug
Or I'll be fired.
Rotisserie Gold,
Covered with mold.
Take it to Century 21
And they'll have it sold.
Fifty cents
Or a dollar.
Got out my book
And started to color.
Fifteen hours,
In my head.
Fifteen hours,
That's what I said.
Pills for headaches,
Cuts and burns.
Broken wheel
But yet still turns.
Left alone,
Left to die.
In a toasted
Cherry pie.
Empty hands,
Empty mind.
Be so friendly,
Be so kind.
Help me up,
And help me out
I won't hurt you.
Do not doubt.
I wrote this poem at school in the 8th grade (1995) during some downtime. There's some serious stuff mixed with absurdities in it. The general idea is that I was feeling lousy, worn out, and like people expected me to do more. The name of this poem is related to the end.
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