Misery Guts - A Beat Poem

Hanging out with my friends was supposed to make me happy

Having money and a home was supposed to make me happy

Having everything I want was supposed to make me happy

So what the fuck do I do, because I'm not happy!

--

The only thing that I can hack besides overt inebriation

Is the empathetic tact of a decent conversation

And eventually I snap to the realisation

That all I want is distraction, instant gratification

--

Life's a long sequence of crap, boredom, and hibernation

And the only thing I've mastered's the art of procrastination

Solitary in my flat with games and masturbation

Keep facebook full of flak for my precious validation

--

Earn myself a little cash for some misappropriation

when it's time to pay the gas, I cheat myself into starvation

always know I should go back but I got no appreciation

for the regular track, nine-to-five occupation

--

I even had a little splash and took myself on a vacation

But the trip just had a lack of the expected jubilation

I'm a hedonistic hack, I live sensation to sensation

Now I can't feel a smack or the love of a relation

--

I can't find a direction without confusion

Feel like my soul needs a blood transfusion

It's all so dry, gotta make my own purpose

Try to dig deep but can't break the surface

life's a trial and the jury's hung

The only recess is a paper on the tongue

All you need is drive, and a heart, and a dream

But I'm a steam train and I've got no steam

--

I've got ennui! It's on me!

Could have a million dollars or a hun-dee!

You can drive a Vesper or a Humvee

But the world'll pass you by if you're like me

--

I've got ennui! It's on me!

Could have a million dollars or a hun-dee!

You can drive a Vesper or a Humvee

But the world'll pass you by if you're like me

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