I usually walk the grocery store
Without any significant reason.
I need no deodorant, and
I have enough food anyway.
Like I need to be eating.
I hide in the produce,
Pretending I need apples and oranges
For a fruit salad.
I seem to be searching for my
Never-ending nirvana,
Alas, it has escaped me once more.
I stand here now,
By the cookies and crackers,
Seeing a mother and her son
Decide, together, on crackers they like.
I doubt I ever had that
With my mother.
I just wanted to leave but
I have no place to go,
There is no place I want to go.
I'm not welcomed in many places,
For I bring my words
Everywhere I go.
That angers many people who
Have to be right always.
Here I am,
Picking out liters of wild cherry Pepsi
For I need to drown my worries,
And I don't drink alcohol.
I think when I turn 21, I'll start.
When I turn 21, maybe I'll be dead,
At least then no one will tell me I'm a deadbeat
(excuse the pun).