Some days

Some days I feel like a burden.

I was put on this earth,

To fall and never be heard of.

My dreams are a failure,

Like a downturn in a movie dilemma.

I wish I could end this movie,

And live so freely.

I’m wanting to scratch myself away.

The stress of not knowing the future

Is about to fade.

I checked off almost everything off my five year plan.

God, universe didn’t want me to keep on the fan.

Air blows between in a small little windmill—

It turns dusty and moldy,

Into debris that never seems to want to be kept.

Give me a plate,

I’ll give you a piece of hate.

All the in between,

The ups and downs of my melancholy,

Disappear into an existence afar.