Indifference corrodes my will these day,
Like the rust that rots my shitty car.
Always planning to find my ambition tomorrow,
Then tomorrow's race starts, but I'm stuck in tar.
Struggle comes with no milestones.
Countless setbacks now I'm numb.
I once marched to my own beat... til some assholes stole my drum.
Same sad song now stuck on repeat,
No choice but to tune it out.
With no music there's no hope,
Just a stagnant pool of doubt.
Wading in the parasites called emptiness.
Infested to my being's core.
Lost my battle with the void... Now I am its whore.
Forced to surrender inevitable emotions,
Feelings are no longer my cross to bear.
Pain won't hurt and love can't help,
When you lose the ability to care.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Infested by Chrissy Horning )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(31 March 1934 – 31 May 2009)
(January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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