A Waste

Why am I this way?

So undefined, worthless

Nobody to listen to what I say

To watch over me while I pray,

Wishing for amnesty,

Is there really no other way;

Maybe if I wasn’t so different

A blotch in this perfect place

They wouldn’t use me to vent

Through bruises to my arms, my face;

Making me watch other people happy, falling in love

While I wither away in a corner

Wishing for a bolt to strike me down from above;

Is it wrong to want it to end

All this suffering,

Because I know I cannot mend

Glass shards a smattering

When the whole was never perfect anyway,

A waste of time, space, air,

A disgrace;

At least I know I’ll not die alone a waste

My end is assured a save

Because they'll all be there, they’ll make haste

If only to dance on my grave.

The End

7 comments about this poem Feed