It is what it is . . .
And I never learn
I just burn
My bridges
And call it living
I just stay
Sinning
And I can’t keep forgiving myself
For letting down myself
These repeated patterns
Scream at me
To change
To rearrange my life
And try to do it right
To admit my mistakes
And to attempt to be great
But all I feel is
Fake
I force it out
And what follows
Is real
But not real enough . . .
I dropped the mask
That made me appear tough
And tried love
But still
It isn’t enough . . .
I tried not to care
But I wasn’t aware
That I needed that mask
Because when you open up your chest
And pull out your heart
And write with it
For everyone to see
Well,
You have to be tough for that
Yeah . . . you gotta be tough for that
And when you try to be great
It’s a lonely road
That’ll feel painfully long
Before you even get a glimpse
At your own greatness
In fact,
You probably won’t ever see it
Your own soul isn’t for you to see
It’s for you to chisel and shape
And it’s up to everyone else to decide if you’re great
But if they like you
It usually isn’t because you’re actually great
It’s only because
They can relate . . .
I don’t know where I was going with this . . .
And that’s how it feels these days
Lost in the sauce
Focused on the wrong thing
Blinded by arrogance
Writing nonsense.
I hate writing about writing.
It’s my only rule.
CH 4/7/24
Comments