I am quite unusual, some consider me to be usable, reusable, abuse able, having me to the point were I can not talk right, finish up my syllable, I know it's all psychological, my thinking is not logical, irrational, so bashful, in the right company I'm a disaster, so casual as I try to be,the world again and again misreads me, misguides me, so I try to hide me,
Trying again to pull myself to gether like a broken vase, the past keep haunting with thougthts I can not erase, I try to meditate, translate, make my logic straight, but i just cant seem to penitrate, the meaning of my issues, every few days I'm using all the tissue, how can I be a back bone, when my back feel broke, how can I be an inspiration, when i feel no hope, i need the pope, or a coat, cause my mind is cold, feeling old and ackward ugly inside, inspiration has died, im finished i've tried.
Tell nothing is left only flesh and this bones, and a yearning to go home, but there is no home to go, though, i have a bed, I have a steady place to rest my head, though I wished I was in a tent in the wilderness instead.
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