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I wish I'd never known you,
Nor fallen at first sight;
I wish we'd never laughed away the days,
Nor chatted through the night;
I wish you'd never shared your fears,
Nor passed your grief to me;
I wish I never loved you, dear,
For it could never be.
Yet
I'm glad we read our Tennyson,
For it still binds us tight;
I'm glad of that halcyon friendship,
For it brought to life a light;
I'm glad you chose to tell me,
For I was too blind to see;
I'm glad I love you, my dear,
Nor care I if you love me.
Undecided as to whether to substitute the Tennyson line with this:
I'm glad I sat next to you,
For Tennyson binds us tight;
Thoughts, gentlemen?
>>
Honestly throw away the entire thing save for the last three lines. You can still salvage from this something great.
>>
>Thoughts, gentlemen?
I liked this line best.
>>
literally the gayest thing I've read this year
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>>8896454
Its a little to mellow for my tastes but then again I wrote this the other day
>Poker, toker lead a line of pills with a chase of soaker
>I live a life of pain and addiction
>I get no sympathy for my affliction
>Was it my own fault
>That I lost my house, my kids, and never got caught?
>Can I blame the police who didn't bust my dealer
>Kicking back a buck or too for protecting the local "healer"
>A dirk cloaked and daggered, disguised as a witch doctor
>Slimy citizen shielded by a moniker
>Well, can I blame the family?
>Who failed to help me
>Holding an intervention
>failing to stop my declension, let alone ease filial tensions
>Could I blame the lawman?
>Who works for himself, deflecting arguments to the contrary with a straw man
>who sleeps with 10 women just to have his masculinity portray
>imbibes more in an hour than I do in a day
>Should I blame myself?
>Who took his first needle off the doctor's medical shelf
>Who bought his first bag of heroin with his lunch money
>and never gave up the habit, from middle school to the modern day,
>Whose wife left him when she found out
>Took the kids with her in a rush and a pout
>I, who sold my house to prevent an interdiction
>between my arm, my needle and my addiction
>No, it wasn't I
>It wasn't me but the other guy
>The one who holds all the blame
>The one whose always faces away, expressions holding steadily the same
>The one whose grief lay bottomless
>The one whose eyes look down, towards shodden lace
>That's the man who deserves all the hate
>He did everything, allowing my addiction to inculcate
>Not I, I am fearless
>I am peerless
>and certainly
>certainly
>not cheerless
>I always have a little friend waiting to greet me
>he lies on the corners, hiding in dealers pockets to see me.
>I have joy in life free of all nicks
>as long as I can find my next fix
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>>8896454
art is weird man
all these re-presentations
re-calculations and re-calibrations
of invisible intangible untouchable (things)
spooky man art is spooky af
fuck man i cant believe i fell for an artist
hopeless dumbass ober here st
>>
>>8896605
I'm not trying to be rude or harsh. I genuinely believe you can do better, though it is off to a good start. Consider it a rough draft. Try to express these sentiments in less cliched ways
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