for me frustration is best expressed in poetry. rhyme. rap. whatever.
the pity-fool me
trying not to wallow in self-pity
a truly trying challenge for me
taking all the pains
to study, but in vain,
results don't reflect
what my brain's meant to be.
the future seems bleak
I really can't see
what exactly are the skills
that i have of use to me?
I only have imagination
rhyming,
all my mind's creations
still the insignificance
is hardly even diffident
so obvious, blatant, plain, profuse
what of skills that have no use?
it's sad but it's reality
the last place that I want to be
my dreams are the kind that are really just dreams,
you awake- they fade,
forgotten, unseen.
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