I feel you and I care but I'm no god.
Half of what I write is unacceptable poetry
because it isn't motivating and doesn't break.
Like this,
into fragments with
rhythm missing because
my poem is my culprit in my eyes
always running and hiding in corners
down the streets, I can't reach,
there's a pattern to be followed but
I'm too stressed for that.
A not-so-perfect-poem
by a
not-so-perfect-person
