Trying To Find The Proper Tense

Trying to find the proper tense& then his anger risesCan’t deal with these peopleMirrored statements of all he despisesSimple logic wasted around hereAn abyss filled with what they don’t knowShocking & devastatingly stupidThen you realize they’re all a show

It Was A One-Eyed Kind Of Morn

It was a one-eyed kind of morn With evening’s festivities going awry I scrawled out all I could remember Once a gentleman, turned drunken guy Slight images of a lovely form Olfactory sparks upon my brain Sketching the party’s guest list But no new faces could remain Racking my skull for a proper memory Writing

I’m Tired Of Being So Dry

I’m tired of being so dry In need of an outlet to release my brain Creativity gone; leaving me stagnant Building into a wreck of anxiety & pain My thoughts stunted by vapid feelings Finding myself too tense, filled with stress Needing to drink from restorative waters Like those I found under her dress