i picture you
on an old swing
writing mad poems
about leaving this
place
it’s all a matter
of who can
hold their head above
the water for
the longest
look little girl, it’s all
a goddamn joke, laugh
and it’ll all hurt less
the riddle of it is
the less we care about
it all, the more it all
seems to matter
we can’t have that
can we?
Ben Paynter
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-riddle-8/
