The Memoirs of a Very Confused Me

March 14, 2011
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Said to go home and write about me,
So I think, who’s to say they’ll like it, but I guess we’ll see.
I have an idea of what I can possibly say
Talk about how I feel? I’ve never thought about it this way.
Sitting in a man’s house, that I barely know
They say he’s my father I guess the curly hair is all that shows.
You need a license to catch a fish, hunt a deer, or drive a caddy
But they’ll let any moronic man be a daddy.
The man I really considered a father, has already passed;
God wrote him in as my grandpa, but this part was miscast.
My relationship with my dad really isn’t that great,
He walked out when I was a little older than eight.
I have no idea where I’m going with this poem
This “father” of mine told me I was worthless, but I’ll show him.

Now, here I go again, sitting in my den,
Trying to figure out how to convey my ideas through this pen.
My life is a mess; how am I to handle all this stress?
Put this gun to my head, just pull the trigger
I promise it won’t hurt, I’m wasting my time, I want to be a part of something bigger.
My ideas are scattered, shattered, I guess I could even say tattered.
I must admit, I’ve gone through a lot for a kid that’s only seventeen,
I’ve gotten hurt so much, emotionally and physically, just give me more morphine.
But the show goes on, there’s no way of stopping it
Just have to start thinking, if I go on like this, soon I’ll be in a 6 foot deep pit.
Tears stream down my face, sometimes I feel like I can’t fill this empty space.
My heart is what hurts, I don’t really know what I’m doing, these are just random spurts.

Now onto the next scene, I know, this is so much to be imagining.
Asthma is terrible, taking all these inhalations.
Albuderol making my heart go crazy, too many palpitations.
Essentially taking roids, but not sending me in a rage.
Don’t worry, no need to lock this beast in a cage.
Totally confused as to what I’m even writing down
Adjective, verb, action, subject, can I use this as a noun?

He gave me a diary to write down my thoughts
What I can’t bear to tell him, like that time I spent with Eric at Knott’s.

Whatever what I feel for him may be
I just want him to know he can always count on me.
I love this kid so much, it’s hard to understand
I just want to wrap my arms around him, not even giving a damn
What they think about us, or what they think about me.
I’m over, this is done, peace out, I’m going to try and live my life, and maybe watch a little glee.

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