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All The Songs I Sing Are About Myself

February 25, 2014
By BenHorrobin PLATINUM, Courtice, Other
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BenHorrobin PLATINUM, Courtice, Other
24 articles 0 photos 6 comments
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I lay in bed all day

With my head propped up, halfway

Just enough to reach the glass of beer

I lay in bed all day

Listening to the heartbreaking poetry on the radio

Wishing I could sound like that

I produce so very little

And even less of value

I do not deserve the artistic temperament

Let me want outside

Let me want job security

Old age

Uncorrupted lungs

And love for someone other than myself

© Xiao H., Naperville, IL

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This article has 1 comment.

mereCat PLATINUM said...
on Apr. 27 2014 at 3:10 am
mereCat PLATINUM, Horsham, Other
46 articles 0 photos 183 comments

Favorite Quote:
"I am finally colouring inside the lines I live between"

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I just keep re-reading your poetry... I especially love this one because it is so close to how I feel about dance. I want dance, I love dance, I need it but I produce dance of such little value that it doesn't feel like my love for it is justified by my tiny portion of tallent. And sometimes I wish that I could want something else - that i could care about science or something... anyway, amazing poem :)