I don’t know where I belong,
much less I know what side I’m on,
Lost my sight on what’s right and wrong,
And can’t decide,
Whether or not my mind stays strong.
No one can help me while I’m trapped,
Clueless I stand here,
With ties around my neck wrapped.
Everything blows and this is all crap,
This poem stinks, it’s as easy as that.
Oh dear, there it goes again,
I can not help myself, I’ve got to ask:
Will this poem ever end?
I surely hope so, and as it does,
A question arises, launching a quest:
Now, what’s there for me to do next?