I was kind of depressed when I wrote this. You can probably tell.


Rite-Aid Parking Lot


A couple bucks left
Is all I've got
Enough
for cat food
Today tastes like shit
Waiting to meet someone
Who searches my words
for lies
Instead of looking for the truth

I guess you get cynical
seeing so much craziness
But I'm even more so
Scraping to get by
Scraping my head against the pavement
Scraping my face
raw and bloody
My stomach is in knots
Waiting to be late
Waiting for understanding
that never comes.


June 18, 2007

© 2007 Anne Westlund




Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 619 times
Written on 2007-07-05 at 21:59

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How real can life be? this poem gives me a glimpse of the real you, and what life really is all about. I like the way you write, open and honest, and no bs...love this poem much, thanks for sharing....JC
2007-07-07