Garbage Post: Paper Cup With Pinholes

Fear of missing important moments

Fear of missing obvious clues frequently

Foolish, missing wisdom, turning away from proper destinations

Oh it’s too quiet, am I alright, steady straight, or teetering

Is it too late, queued to die from my mistakes and perhaps my eyes are closed

Am I ignorant, lost, too stupid to stand up, too lazy super quick to sit and stay down

Am I a definition of weakness, hopelessness, arrogance

Am I void of all in every sense?


Surely I don’t know how to live

Distorted mirrors batter and bounce thoughts

Counting marbles are they all here I fear some are lost

It feels I’m forever straightening a pile of papers

Shuffling sticky stubborn playing cards

Like turning in a paper in college thinking it’s an A but it’s D-

Covered in red marks

Face-palm until my forehead sparks.

What are you thinking about after reading this?

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