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Right, so, the latest "love of my life" has produced just as her predecessors did, and I am now in my little state of angst. You'd think that after a time I would buck up and learn to get over it. Maybe I'm too trusting; maybe I'm too hopeful. Who knows? All I know is that, as is usual in this stage of mine, my poetry has followed ensuite. So here we goe with the poems of angst.

Spinning Circles 'Round The Heart

Spinning circles, Spinning circles
In a never ending cycle.
Can't believe it, Can't believe it
When you're always in denial.
Heart is racing, Heart is racing
As I hold you in my arms
Pain is burning, Pain is burning
When you're bringing all the harm.
Stomach churning, Stomach churning
When I watch in jealous rage.
Hide the truth, Hide the truth
When we're set upon the stage.
heart is breaking, Heart is breaking
As I turn away from you.
Tears are dropping, Tears are dropping
It's what I have to do.
Life continues, Life continues
So repeats the same old song.
Love is lost, Love is lost
Being used to this is wrong.
Can you Tell yet, Can you tell yet
What it is you mean to me?
Time is up, Time is up
The moment is past and fleeting.

Yep, that one was actually done just today (Dec. 5, 2005). Now, I'm sure everyone has read this next one in some form or another and is downright sick of reading them. Well, they wouldn't be getting such good advertisement if it wasn't for those whiny bands like Simple Plan and such. Anyway, here's the angrier side of it.

Pity For The Soul

There is a chronic pain in my heart
That cries and weeps and moans.
Why is it I must feel and think as I do?
Why can't I be an emotionless, mindless drone?
I'm tired of this charade,
I'm tired of lying to myself.
I'm sick of thinking I'm not worthy,
Said the Prince to himself.
I tire day after day
As I try to make something of it.
To what end I do this, I do not know.
Why the hell do I care of the profit?
I used to think that ignorance was bliss
And that innocence was a gift.
I then used to think that I had grown wiser
As my innocence was set adrift.
I don't understand why time after miserable time
I've wanted to give my heart away.
Maybe I thought that it was supposed to be.
Supposed to be merry and gay.
What if I've not been really giving my heart?
What if I'm doing something wrong?
Do I give up everything and collapse into outstretched arms?
Or do I try again and stand strong?

There was another four lines, but I don't think it would be permisable to post them. Look out for more poetry in the future. No doubt I'll be visiting the pity pot again someday soon.