I say that I'm tired, and that's all that I say

But tired is not what I actually feel

I cover those feelings, which are actually real.

T

The Trials that drive me insane

The Turmoil that always comes with disdain.

The Terrible Thoughts that I keep in my brain

The Trifles I suffer I just can't maintain

I

The Inevitable failure to which I abide

The Invisible feeling I feel deep inside.

The Internal thoughts that smother my pride.

The Impossible walls that make me want to hide.

R

The Ruining factors that make everything fall.

The Reputation I want, but the stairs are too tall.

The Ropes that tie me and make me feel small.

The Rewards That I never reach, never seen them at all.

E

The Emotions I try but can never confess

The Expressions I put on my face, the fake happiness

The Expectations they have that continue to press.

The Excuses I make to make sure they don't guess

D

The Downfalls I have when I want to succeed

The Different obstacles to which I must heed

The Defining traits that I don't want to need

The Draining places I go where I feel like a weed

So yes I am tired, but not as in sleep

I wish I could have those good feelings to keep

And yes, while I do have good times anew

Inside I feel like I'm stuck, nothing to do.
 

*sighs*

Uhhhhhh no title yet.

I used to think I had motives for good.

And yet I never see things through.

I always try, to do what I should.

But my failure always starts anew

I think myself righteous, a helping hand

But I end up taking more than I give

I've always tried to do what's planned

And yet, I feel like I always need them to forgive

I feel as if understanding is only a dream

I feel as if my success is only fake

I feel that they all don't feel as they seem

And I just can't seem to catch a break.

I ask things, but find out I shouldn't have asked

I do things, but it turns out it shouldn't be done

I need a way to know what's right, when I'm tasked.

But I feel like if I get that, I would think I had none.

I wish I was a better friend.

I don't know why I can't be like all of them.

I truly wish the means justified the end,

If I have all these problems- am I the stem?

To a fresh, blank sheet.

When they have a sole outlook

Of what they plan to complete.

Each new line, each new page.

Is a creation, an endeavor.

It can wither, It can age,

But the intent is forever.

A writing, a drawing

Or just a reminder.

Is the maker's new calling.

That is left to the finder.

And though the page may rip,

And though the ink may smudge 

And though the book may be lost.

And though the marks may fade...

When one opens a notebook,

It'll be there, what was made.

A poem with a 7 word vocabulary:
People used small terms, with a cost.
Terms: used. With a small cost. A people.
Small people used terms with a cost.
Used with a people, small terms cost.
Used people. A cost with small terms. 
…..
…..
People use costly terms with a smallness.

A poem with a 5- word vocabulary

Long phrases are too much,
Phrases are much too long.
Are too! Much long phrases.
Much long? Are phrases too.
Too much are long! Phrases.
….
….
Many are longing. To phrases!

THE WALK (title making in progress)
 

I walked until the sun did rise.
I walked until the dawn.
I walked with lows, I walked with highs.
I walked with the brains and brawn.

I walked to the beat the birds’ morning tune
I walked to the beat of the wind
I walked along the path with no set boon.
I walked along the road now thinned

I walked around, ‘til noon was high
I walked around, waiting  
I walked for no reason why 
I walked for nothing sating.

I walked about- the sun was low
I walked about- too long
I walked far past- nowhere to go
I walked far past- quite wrong.

I walked when the sun had set
I walked when the wild woke.
I walked while there was nothing to get
I walked while the creature spoke

I walked too late, while nature slept
I walked too late for man
I walked and walked, memories kept
I walked and walked, no plan. 

The crossroad 

A crossroad seems to have two ways
Left or right, a yes or nays
And yet there are quite a few more
Left or right, that’s two of four.
Because you could go backwards too
Turn around, and start anew
That bumps up the choice to three
One way, two way, and third to flee.
But I told you there was a fourth-
If you can go south, you can go north,
Stray off the path, walk off the bricks.
Feet on the grass, but wait- there’s six.
The fifth choice is to stay right there.
Not to move, breathe in the air.
And also you could catch a ride.
They’ll make the choice while you’re inside.
But there is a seventh, before this choice- shocking.
It is to never even have started walking.