The Idiot
The idiot stares at the page
And reads his own death sentence
And signs his name proudly on the bottom
I guess I'm an idiot then.
Cause every word I write takes time,
The force that nothing is invulnerable to,
And that time is slowly wearing me down
I've gone hard, the crust of decades
Hardened like scales
An armor plate
That only masks the soft flesh
The heart
I write, but rarely act on it
I talk a big game
But I've never been good at sports
I stuck my neck on the line
And told them to drop the guillotine
Now I'm running around like a chicken without a head.
I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about
What it'd be like to be dead
I think it would be really boring
Cause I don't think I'd make any new friends
And by the time my old friends get there,
They'll have moved on, its true
But I guess thats really nothing new
I was taught to think of others before myself
Well, now I only do things for others
And when I actually do something for me
I get burnt out, feel like a failure,
And I write
And I run out of time.