Bryan Deakin

Scottish Poet / Blogger / Community Activist

Time

Time has no meaning
Time has no concept
In this misery I call my life
In this, this era called the twenty first century,
I sit and cry each night,

I have a feeling,
That things will work out,
I know that they will,
I know that they wont,
But I must show a false me
A strong me, a me that doesn’t care
Doesn’t care how much you stab this heart
I will keep returning for more,

I lie of course,
As I sit here tonight
Crying wishing that my heart was right,
But instead its my mind, that small annoying voice in my head,
Saying it will happen again, like it did before
Like it always will,

I always seem to pick the best girls,
The ones all guys want
The ones that use people
The ones who get a taste then reject them
The ones that mess with my heart,

I would love to have a girl to love,
One that doesn’t screw with my mind
One that doesn’t stab my heart,
One I can call my lover,
But it wont happen,
Well not in this life,
Not in this cycle,

I could get any girl I want,
Any girl you can imagine,
Just saying a few words,
My friend and I call is poetry,
Others call it a Spell
But I would never sink to that level,
That’s the level of no return

I just wish,
I just wish that the ideal girl for me,
Is moments away, ill bump into her tomorrow or maybe tonight,
But will I, doubt it
Who would go out with me?

© 2006-2016

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