Friday, September 17, 2010

The Meloncholy It comes

I feel my talent, it breaths within me, it stares out of the mirror, it is closer when I read a newspaper, when I turn on the TV I cannot avoid it, talent, yet I hate it so. I understand, I see, I can calculate, I can fathom, yet for all that failure seems to swamp me.

I wish I had no talent, nothing why have it when the world seems so unappreciative, when other qualities are valued more.

The tears they flow sometimes why, oh why I wonder why do you torture me so... give me so much potential and so much failure.

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