Thursday Night Confessions

I admit, I am a hypocrite
Just another human being.
I admit, I am a cynic
I can't believe what I'm not seeing.

I admit, I am a page-ripper
Tear out my memories.
I admit, I am a liar
I encourage kids to dream.

Because, I must admit
to see them lose
it simply breaks my heart.
But it's even worse
to know them, numb,
give up before the start.

I admit, I've done my dreaming
There's not much left for me to do.
I admit, I'm done with chasing
down the wish that won't come true.

But I admit, I never, ever want
the young to stop believing.
I admit, I am a hypocrite
Just another human being.

This poetry thing is quite alarming.
It's like since I destroyed the old diary I found in my nightstand
I tried to take away my past.
And now I have to relive it, to prove this part of me once existed.
This part to which words once flowed
that could never quite capture the feelings I kept.
Rhymes that felt clumsy to the tongue, but that I had to share anyway.
I don't even really like my writing, personally. But I give it to the public in surrender.
Old habits might die hard.
Some things don't die at all.

It might be regrettable. I can't tell right now.
I am so confused.
I don't know what keeps coming over me around the same hour every night.
Maybe if I keep track of these I'll find a pattern.

I didn't mean to sound so egotistical and kind of angsty. I apologize.

Don't worry, guys, I'm still looking up
~M