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My Wrath

I feel like life has a poetic cruelty to it sometimes.
You can give it your all and it still won’t work,
And then you give some more and hold on tight
But soon you’ll see, it still ain’t right.
Then you try to step back and ask the question:
When is this shit gonna stop? I mean can I grow up?
Some say whenever a door closes, a window opens.
Some say the moon is made out of cheese.
I say I don’t know. I sure do like my windows open.
As I grow older I find myself practicing self comprehension.
I would highly recommend that for anyone else really -
I find comfort in knowing who I am and how I feel,
Even though sometimes knowing isn’t comfortable at all.
Sometimes we turn away from how we feel - just because
And do things we know we really shouldn’t,
Maybe to enjoy a moment and I see no harm in that,



But my eternal wrath shall reign on all.

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