Clouds Are Low Tonight Poem by Ghost Legend

Here I sit, watching life waste away,
Knowing the movie should end well,
But that reality will not.

Here I sit, recognizing my tragedy
In all its assertive, lonesome power
I cannot stop.

Yes, here I sit, assuming no one
Will read this, and, if they did,
Could very well skip the lot.

As I sit, it's becoming old to say
How abandoned I've been
At night, at day, by all.

With nothing left, but to sit, I feel
Similar to riding up hills,
While their fireworks popped.

My pain, their pleasure, their thrill,
Like a female used, still,
In festive, putrid lust.