Wasting Time

Wasting time is all I do
school work sleep
even spending time with you
I feel on the brink of something
though what I dare not think
some have greatness in them
it thrusts itself upon others
desperate people grab at every chance
but me I run from it and hide
still the potential builds the pressure hurts
like a balloon I lie flat deflated safe
if I were to be useful it would surely be my death
if I were to be filled tied off and left to float
who's to say I wouldn't fly until I began to sink
back into my previous self back
onto the floor flat but now stretched thin
never to fly again but never forgetting the feeling
of purpose.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem