Box Cat

Empty notebook, nothing's as it seems

Tearing up dreams and ripping at the seams

Life isn't as poetic as it should be

All I get are these glares

I'm tired of the waiting

The apathetic prodigy of all your scanners and fares

I'm sick of all the dating

I don't have time for fools

Life's slowly coming to an end

Why should we even play pretend

That we are anything other than sad

When we should even be mad

All I get are these glares

I'm tired of the waiting

The apathetic prodigy of all your scanners and fares

I'm sick of all the dating

I don't have time for fools

I'm tired of walking in circles and seeing that there's no purpose

Like I'm bound to a tiny box, like that cat

Or is there a cat?

But no one knows, but someone out there knows

Like that cat, I've got nowhere to go

Every syllable makes my sentences somewhat malleable

But that's understandable

The books strewn all over the place

The past, present, and future tenses

I think I need some personal space

All I get are these glares

I'm tired of the waiting

The apathetic prodigy of all your scanners and fares

I'm sick of all the dating

I don't have time for fools