I can not create at the rate which equates my fate.
I can not sleep until I reap the deep for keeps.
I can not smile in this pile of bile all the while.
I can not count and then recount my amount of doubt.
I can not read while I bleed for this need of speed.
I can not see who is free to forever be my she.
I can not reach out for each who teach, but I can leech.
I can not care while I stare into the air out there.
I can not believe what I perceive, so on the eve I leave.
I can tell you it's all wrong, and it won't be long, until I'm gone.
I can stop this rhyme, at any practical time, to confess my anonymous love for you, but you know that is a crime.
I can get so bored that I stare into the sky, and ask "Why?",
But Why?
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