June 11, 2011

I try to make an impression,
But it's just a touch,
Too light to feel or see.

I guess I'm not right for it,
I guess deadlines aren't my thing.

I guess late nights and aching muscles,
Were the only thing meant for me.

I guess you were right,
I guess I was wrong,
But I'm tired of supposing things.

I know that I'll have it one day,
And I know that you're wrong,
I know and I'm sure,
But why does no one believe me?
(Not even me.)

It didn't work.
Just like everything else didn't work.

They told me to repeat,
Repeat, repeat and what happened?
What did you see?

But I saw nothing,
I know nothing.

They think I'm guilty by association,
They think I know everything,
But it's so much easier to be wrong than it is right.
When you're right,
You always have to explain.
So I don't ever want to be right,
Because how would they ever understand?

It's just little old me,
And my lies, again.