The Late Pompey The Great

My scramble for relevance
Ended in
Boredom and vomit
When I decided to be dead again

There once was a time
I’d ask why
The bullet to the head
Was a very real option then

And what price for failure?
Maybe you
Can see how it’s different
Now I’m left without a trigger, here

I struggled, containing it
Now I sit
Picking my teeth,
I dull my mind and laze within routines

I had potential
I could have been
Something to them
Back when they
Were everything to me.

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About dcduell

Failed musician. Trying to write for TV. Never sure quite where I'm headed. Serial un-funnyman. I used to do a lot of writing. Sometimes I still do. So I decided to put it on the internet. I'm on Facebook and Twitter. Pretty active on the former, not so much on the latter. Holler at me.
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