​In this graceless age I exist 

Ever the eternal  optimist 

Yet so full of rage and despair

For the life I have led

And the future I dread

Unable  to ever be the pessimist

Doomed to be the confused middle-ist

Trying so hard to work through  my confusion 

Find balance with my desicsion 

To live in peace

With the beast 

Sometimes it’s  a struggle 

Sometimes  we snuggle 

Yet in the end

I know it’s not my friend 

Yet not my enemy 

It’s  simply a part of me

That refuses to die 

That can never cry

And will always stir to life 

When I’m  trying to relax

That’s  just the facts

Like the wound in my back from the knife

Somethings never change

No matter how  strange


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