This is not really a poem. Very little of it rhymes and it has no syllabic structure, but it was just a free write of what I was feeling at the time, so here it is. Maybe I can take a part or two and make it part of something more formed, idk.


I have no life down here
Nothing to do but destroy myself
And fool myself into making me think I enjoy it
I know what this is
It’s to give me the drive I need to make this end
But I cant seem to keep the frustration and despair on my mind

I have no life here
I have no escape
I have no place here
In this mess I’ve made

The sweat stings my eyes
From vented frustrations
Maybe I should keep it all inside
Rev up the engine, and drive my way out of here
If I cant go soon, I’ll die before another year
But its too much for everybody else