The Poem Book That Shouldn't Be Seen [P1: If It Goes Up, Must Come Down]

tomorrow

What will happen my next day?
Why does every time I write I feel like I need to do something else?
Why do I always lay?
Who tf said slay,
those poems are getting comic...

And what will I do tomorrow,
When i wake up,
Will I be with my head down again, low again?
I feel like I'm focusing a lot on the present lately, it's not that bad after all, should shut up...

Will I do something tomorrow, I would do things, but will I do them?
Because I'm afraid of having homework, I'm afraid to expand my scheme,
I guess I'm just lazy, a lazy walking poem...

(Ought, what, how .........)

I'm making poems?

My morning flower,
My flower of tomorrow,
I want to lie to myself more and more,
I won't stop tomorrow,
I might be a clown but it's my throwing shit idea...

Express. Your. Self.
Less. Hours. Of. Victim.

Admit it. You're not doing anything.
You're not changing.
You're just waiting. For what. Tell me what.
'Cause that's your problem.
That's what all your poems are about.

You're wasting time, loosing time.
Trying to lie yourself the time you have left.

D.O S. O metjogndkd

Forget it...