I think I’m ineffective.

Every punch that I throw winds up as a dagger in my heart.

Every word that I write is twisted into a club

And used to bash my pride in (again).

Easy Listening.

Elevators and offices, small talk and weak coffee.

But I have no interest for

Repetitive rhythms and meaningless lyrics.

Teach me how to accept: I know only of stereotypes and skepticism.