just plain nothings

I would not rather call it depression,
I would just call in not being my self,
a self not very pleasing , not yet appealing
Ready to be worn out,
I stand with an intuition
facing It all , might be right thing to do,
Never have known brick bats are the only companions,
The only friends for a foe,
Denial of the ready present, expectations of the future,
And glory of the past gives me pleasure no more.
I am deformed,
Deferred,
And I have no place,
A place where nothing seems dire,
Nothing seems not so right
I need to soar to skies and see the waters beneath my feet
I believe if life has to be lead,
Then be the leader
Be the master
Be a student
Be the child,
At the end or the first be yourself
Life might not accept this,
But it just will not deny
Anything for one self
Of one self
As a dire frame
Life is just as it is always said
What you give is what you get.
Nothing beyond at a given point,
of thought, seems bare or simple
It’s just a round about of things not so profound
Not so brittle

Eyes daze,
Sleeves rolled up,
Gazing into the screen,
Lead into intuitions of nothing
Nothing and nothing.
Just plain nothings