It's a never ending race that I'm never ready to run
If only I can trick myself into believing that this game is even a bit fun
How do I un-experience life? How do I undo memories
How do I stop being me?
Just so that I can be on the front?
Voice of reason, speak, speak
But before that, tell me why it is so bad to be meek
Why being a little emotional is considered being a drama queen
And why, why is the world so mean?
How much courage does it take to be a loser in this race?
Perhaps it's true, all roads are equally travelled by
What's holding me back then? Why to myself do I lie?
Those who refuse to pay the price of regret will pay the price of time lost
You will pay anyway, no one can avoid the cost
Of growing old.
I'm a horrible writer that's tainting poetry
And this unfinished poem should, in the first place, not meant to be
But I have ten thousand more words that I want to write
And ten thousand more thoughts to get off my mind
Forgive me for seeking warthm from something as fickle as love
But I always knew it was something more