Sure enough I am crushed.
I have nothing clever to say
That hasn't already been said by Michael Cera or Brand New.
What does the world want with another unmotivated writer?
Nothing.
My dreams of success melt under the gaze of reality.
I am the ineloquent excesses
Of run-on sentences
Surrounded and circled by red ink.
If I'm gone long enough from their sight,
I can only hope I'll be gone from their memory.
That perhaps I might return as a stranger,
Who they may learn to love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i love brand new =]] also thats a problem i have to.. writing and then reading it back and feelling pretentious at best. very relatable. =]