Step Back

For some patience is excrutiating. Waiting, forever waiting. In lines backed out doors, on street corners, and always for something. Waiting. I've waited for a lot of things and patience doesn't always come easily. You start to find yourself irritated with the smallest things at first. When time progresses and you start to lose track of just what your waiting for the mind delves it's way into the past. You start to wish you could change it, change you, what you have done, and where you went. I don't know where I'm going but I know where I've been and I can't say it's been so good. I can't say I've been good. I have no higher ground, I'm lost in the canyons created by the rivers of my destruction and sorrow. I'm tired and the worlds colors have a faded finish. Nothing seems to really matter anymore. It's all the same and the more we try to change the more we are reminded we are the same. The hope that carries people I don't think it carries me. I look at the ground when I walk and sometimes just don't want to speak. I don't want to touch or feel or care about anything. Seven years ago when I was merely eighteen there was more joy in the world and everything was exciting. I've put that version of me away, now you have what we see. I'm a man of constant anger, and distress, it's not so easy. This journey of mine is filled with pothole ridden roads, battles, and retreats.

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