deepundergroundpoetry.com
Ode to Self-Doubt
To think that god looks at you with wondrous eyes,
You theological scholar.
A manuscript waits to be finished,
While your family waits for an apology.
Every piece,
Forged with your once ambitious signature,
Was your mom’s screaming not enough?
How pathetic.
How.
Fucking.
Pathetic.
You theological scholar.
A manuscript waits to be finished,
While your family waits for an apology.
Every piece,
Forged with your once ambitious signature,
Was your mom’s screaming not enough?
How pathetic.
How.
Fucking.
Pathetic.
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