My Time

To put up with these facades, the importance mirage, I deserve applause

What cause need be for them to see that their rules needn’t apply to me?

Indignant at the ignorance, indubitably inclined I ask the divine why must they always waste my time?

A million time units, misused it, to finish work that boils my mind like those who choose to remain blind

As my brain boils, I sit through toil and turmoil as if I stand in a vat of burning hot oil

And when I sit in a waterfall to mend all my scalds, I receive yet another dastardly call

There is no escape from this “responsibility” and they can’t see that I am me

I am me, and they still can’t see that their rules needn’t apply to every other guy passing by these horrible lies

Nothing but red viscous anger run through my veins, during the excruciating pain of having my time taken away

It is the product of arrogance, ignorance, and a mishandling of events but regardless of the source it doesn’t make any sense.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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