Draft #1: Fail.

I don’t know where

we are headed

Or if we are headed

at all but I have waited weeks

months,year for something

to happen but nothing

has changed.

I tell myself that it’s just me

That I am the problem

The equal sign does not show

The answers that I

can form.


The eraser instead of point

Scratched out

I hear the church bells echo in the  silence

my cries create a harmony The organ and chorus

rattles vibrating chandeliers

Bread handing in the air

And I don’t understand.

You sit. Overstuffed couch sitting

In a pile of  shit (metaphorically)

Waiting for me to come back.Waiting

For something to change,but you and I both know

It wont.


Lemme know what you think :)

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