Poems

I’ve spent my life chasing the dreams i once had, I’ve spent my life chasing the dreams I once had, But now they feel distant, they make me feel sad. The rust is a shadow I cannot defeat, It clings to my soul, it drags down my feet.

I’m screaming inside, but no one can hear Buried so deep in all of my fear I’m numb to the hurt, numb to the fight I’ve lost the way to feel the light

I’ve got a gym membership i’ll never use, I’ve got a gym membership I’ll never use, A new wardrobe to chase the blues. But no matter the brand or the cut of the jeans, I’m still haunted by those teenage dreams.

I’ll drive that car, i’ll dye my hair, I’ll drive that car, I’ll dye my hair, But deep down, I’m still stuck in despair. This life’s not bad, but it’s not quite right, So I’ll keep searching through the neon light.

I’m crumbling inside, breaking piece by piece But the pain is numb, no sweet release I’m staring at the cracks, I used to hide Now I’m lost, nowhere to confide

I’m fighting for something i can’t reach I’m fighting for something I can’t reach Numbness spreading, I can’t breach This wall I’ve built, this quiet storm I’m losing myself, losing my form

In the thickening twilight of life’s middle act, Reflections fracture on the canvas, abstract. Where once the brush danced with youthful zest, Now it trembles, burdened by the artist’s quest. In this murky corridor of existence, where dreams once vivid now dim, Each stroke on canvas battles with vigor grown grim. The hues that once

In this quiet doom of spoiling milk and bills unpaid, Where the mundane wears a crown, daily parades Of petty trials stretch the fabric of sanity thin— A world ending not in bangs, but whimpers within. The fridge groans empty, a mocking cavern, hollow and wide, Laundry mountains climbing high, impossible to hide. The car

I paint the world in colors i can’t feel, I paint the world in colors I can’t feel, But underneath, I’m just trying to believe. The rust of time has settled on my soul, A patina of doubt that I can’t escape. I stand in the light, but shadows remain, A heart that’s still waiting

In the fluorescent glare of the corporate sphere, They peddle wellness with a veneer. A yoga mat unfurled in the break room’s shine, A fruit basket sits, part of the scheme. They’ve crafted a mantra, “Live well, work better, Yet they tighten the noose, the contractual fetter. From nine until five, your spirit they drain,