Pierre Roustan
Feb 9 · 1 min read
Courtesy: Flickr

You’ll never know true loss.
Because you won’t allow yourself to lose.
Winning is(n’t) everything.
You can come here to pay respects
With no real respect except a train wreck
Painted with soft blue colors and brand names.
Superficial and stupid superwoman.

See my tears?
They wash away any of my colors.
Nothing but a mess,
But at least I know it’s a mess I can clean up.
Every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every second.

And you thought I wouldn’t amount to anything,
Pretty songs I sing
With flights of fancy and ideals
You hated, loathed, and clothed in your security.
Lock the door, hide the keys and punch out every day.

24 hours I stay and play this game of life.
There’s no punching out. Not even punching in. I punch through.
Look at me now with all the love I have
In my tears, my joys, my sorrows, my hate, my love, my fear, my pain, my life.

You’re nothing. Fly away. We don’t need you.

Follow us on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook!

Pierre Roustan

Written by

Prolific writer, published author, editor, experienced copywriter, and avid reader

Written Tales

Helping writers and readers connect! We promote all forms of creative writing and cherish the freedom of speech, therefore we do not censor our writers. Come join us today and prepare for entertainment.

More From Medium

More from Written Tales

More from Written Tales

Coffee or Tea?


More from Written Tales

More from Written Tales

Writing — Evermore

More from Written Tales

More from Written Tales


Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade