fauxcroft

It’s so hard

Stuck in a place,

Where you can’t move

Accepting this is your lot,

When every opportunity

Does not bear fruit,

Where you just are in

A constant loop,

Of rejection

And you can’t get a break,

And it makes you mad

And drives you insane,

And no matter what you try

Nothing goes your way,

And though a few may see your light

So many others don’t,

But they see wonder in others

Who is quite clearly fake,

And so I just think too myself

That this is just my life,

And I need just to get on with it

And accept living this way,

Working in a job that just about

Covers all the bills,

After working long hours day by day

Because writing and poetry

Absolutely for me don’t pay,

But still I do it every day,

Because it’s something

That gives me joy to create,

Hoping that it can inspire others

Which is what I do this for,

Before collapsing exhausted

On the cold hard floor,

Being asked by others

What do you do it for,

And they could never understand

And while I hope it brings in,

Maybe just a little bit more

Knowing it probably won’t,

But I can’t stop doing this

As it is what gives me reason,

That I was put here to exist,

Without writing and poetry

Would to me be a huge miss,

Driven by something to do it

And not knowing what it is,

Accepting it does not deliver bliss,

But reinforces that in life

I seem to fail in so much of it, including this,

Excuse my self-indulgent words

Where I clearly feel sorry for myself,

But it’s cathartic and helps relieve the stress,

I am such a mess.