me

sick and tired
of being the shy guy
the passer by
my opinion doesn't matter
cause my thoughts are useless
mister mess up
master of the screw up
avoiding mirrors
cause the face that looks back
is my worse enemy
I wanna beat him to a pulp
the little guy
with his hands in pocket
standing in no were
with no where to go
nothing to say
just caught up in the fray
needing a purpose
or a way to escape
or just
fade away