Poem

[not_purrrfect]

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When I cry are they crocodile tears or are they real?

The issues with my family and my own plight too are all so surreal

I want to care more and I do

But sometimes my selfishness comes busting on through

I wish I weren't so blase about all this stuff

I'm concerned that I can't 'help' enough

But I'm in no shape to offer much support

The mission always ends up in abort

I'm not half the person anyone deserves me to be

I've got plenty to be grateful for

So why to I stupidly still want more

All I can do is hope

That my narcissistic soul learns how to cope

I'd like to be more empathic

And much less spastic

So eager to escape all blame

When in truth I should be in much shame

I can't change who I am it's just to late

So I live my life and accept the fate

Maybe the powers that be and my friends and family

Will understand the the inner me

It's too late to change at my age

So writing poems will be my stage

To rant and rave and sometimes cheer

Because I'd rather be anywhere but here

Down in the dumps is not a nice location

I think my brain needs a vacation

From myself

Live journal is my destination

Clean bill of health

That's not to realistic

But it's okay for me to wish it?

I am among friends who have bigger hearts than mine

That's why I feel free to lay it on the line

All may be better in a matter of time