woodsta

tedium wends its way up the road of boredom in my head
the path of misery and despair is the surface on which I tread
would i prefer not to be of this world?
Would i prefer to be dead?
Do I wish that i could take back those cruel words that I once said?

Hard hits the sense of failure in a despairing mind
The thoughts of others succeeding in a world where I am left behind
could it be this is the way I wanted it?
this was my preference for which I signed?
Or could it be a pennance for the times when I was so unkind?

Humble is he, who in self judgement - admits his lack of worth
Who knows how little he's achieved since his day of birth
But do not weep in pity's sake!
But rejoice and laugh in mirth
Whether we suceed or fail, we'll all be equal under earth

And so within old darkened walls, I sit alone, entombed
with others failing in their lives, united and marooned
what! You thought i was depressed?
thats something you presumed -
for i dont really give a sh!t - when alcohols consumed

(sh!t, Im going to be 30 soon and Ive done nothing but drink my life away, by Paul Wood, age 29.......and soon to be 30, having achieved nothing)