I don't know why I'm sad,
I don't know why I'm lonely,
All I know is that it haunts me
And claws at me every time,
I can't voice out the pain
Or begin to spell out the suffering
So I've laid out the all signs,
Laid out all the signals at every stop,
But nobody came running,
Nobody came at all
YOU ARE READING
Confessions of a Tired Poet
PoetryWhat kind of poem would you write if you stopped caring about everybody else? Confessions of a Tired Poet is a collection of short poems that gives you a backstage pass to the life of a poet who's sick and tired of his life. This is the front seat t...
