Not perfect, not even close,
Bringing up old shit, burnt toast.
Get on my self righteous high horse,
After far too many beer pints of course.
I know that I'm different after my psychosis in 2020,
Just trying to find my own groove, create my own medley.
God shook me awake when I really wasn't looking that way,
Now things just make sense when confusion used to rule my day.
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Author:
Shaunmatthewcpoetry (
Offline) - Published: October 6th, 2025 01:53
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Offline)
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