You’re not that type of person
That’s OK
Now get over it
I tell myself every day
Don’t worry, be happy
Damn; if I say that, you can slap me right here
Chuck said that
It’s the little knowledge I have that makes it harder
Being wise is knowing we know nothing
Shit
I’m a way off that
Thinking I shoulda woulda coulda is what upsets me
Thinking there’s something better that I could be
No satisfaction in what I am, what I do
But is belief in my own inability actually true?
It probably is
But that’s OK
That’s what I tell myself every day
A little reminder to just stay calm
Don’t get upset
Don’t stress, don’t worry about the mess
I perceive my life to be
I go through spells, that low level hell
Convinced there’s a higher path I should be on
Concerned about how much of my life has already gone
And what has been achieved?
More than some, that’s for fucking sure
Those I envy
Those who know no better
Happy, content are they?
Satisfied even that they’re still breathing
More I covet the “success” of those that do
Make a million, win a race
Better, find their place
Some of them end up depressed none the less
What I think I want still not enough for those cunts
They can’t help it and neither can I
Who, what, when, where and maybe how
Just don’t fucking matter now
When I’m in that deep despair
Caused by nothing and everything
I want so much to fill my time
With that worthy cause
That noble quest
The one I can’t think up
Can’t find in my not entirely functioning mind
It’s the bats again
Chaos in their cave
Like Bruce with a broken arm
I can’t catch one
Just one, that’s all I need
From the murmuration of ideas unpredictability swirling in my head
Never going to catch one
Moving so fast and randomly I can’t even tell what they might be
I bet they’re fucking great though
If I ever get hold of one I’m set
Living my best life yet
Until I learn to spring that trap
I’m in a different one
Caught between them who can and do
And them who can’t but don’t care
Happy sitting in their underwear
Creators and consumers
Should have thought of that sooner
But what can I create?
That people won’t just hate
A legacy, a mark
My gift to the world
Ha!
Who do I think I am?
And here we go again
Lost
Scared
Aware
That no matter what I achieve or become
It most likely will never be right for me
Not enough to just be proud
Feel I stand out from the crowd
I’m not that type of person
But that’s OK
I continue to tell myself every single fucking day
-
Author:
Nik Ritchie (
Offline)
- Published: July 18th, 2019 11:28
- Comment from author about the poem: Well, it’s just one of those that comes spilling out because that’s how I’m feeling
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
Comments1
I think this is an excellent write--I hope it was cathartic to spill it! I hope you know that you are not alone in feeling this way. I am a nurse who currently does not work and I feel a lot of those feelings. Thanks for sharing!
Thank you so much. It’s the first I’ve posted and you’re the first comment. So double thank you!
And yes, without wishing to sound I-don’t-know-what, when I’ve written poems it’s almost as if I can’t help it!
Best wishes.
No problem!! I was happy to do it!
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