I marvel at the mystery of how one can compose a poem within 5 minutes when he's depressed.
Maybe I should attribute this sudden, temporary writing passion to guilt.
Love, perhaps?
Or boredom. Yes, that works.
But no. It's definitely guilt.
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Fall Down Upon My Hopeless World.
Here we go again, timid tears.
Why have you been with me all these years?
Be it stress, sadness, realised fears,
or when I hurt somebody I hold dear.
Why won't you just make yourself fall?
While I keep on sobbing and giving my all
to crush and break down my pride so tall,
timid tears, can't you just let me bawl?
I'm down to desperation one more time.
This weight on my back is fucked up yet sublime.
Yes, I want it gone but it's got me in a bind
with love, guilt and desire in my mind.
I was wrong, and I'll hold my stand to admit it.
But timid tears, why won't you let me live it?
I close my eyes to make the sad moment vivid
and try to let out tears that don't deserve to be hid.
For really, what's a dry apology worth
but a jar of promises and a bucketful of words?
Timid tears, I know just what I deserve.
Now please, fall down upon my hopeless world.
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- Menny, who continues to breeze along it.
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