Town Crier: The Broken Chapter

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Town Crier: The Broken Chapter

Oh the burden we bear, being able to speak.
Who would read this? Who would care?
Meaningless trivialities cycled over and over.
Spinning around to be spit out again.
The inability to create originality every day sickens me.
Who would feel sorry for me if I shared?
I tell myself and even I can see the truth.
I have only myself to blame.
Circling the drain.
Washed up.
Washed out.
Filthy in my disgust.
Disgusted by my bravado.
So personal I try to share.
Without anyone knowing it is me.
The mood swings.
The mind screams.
The empty echo of all I've been.
The emptiness of my past is immeasurable since I still have nothing done.
Nothing to measure with.
Nothing to measure against.
A failure in my own skin.
No matter which direction you look in.
Petty accomplishments.
Pitiful acquisitions.
Oh what fools mortals be.
So alone and convinced its okay.
Months and Months.
Days and Days.
Years, even, when you think of my intentions.
Who could ever feel sorrow?
Who could ever truly care?
Who would want to hear?
The great list.
The tally.
The Story of the Failure.

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