I have grown tiresome
of all human relations
all the same conversations
inevitably ending all the same
a redundant narration
that plays in my mind
the eminent culmination
of when a coy girl
meets an egotistic boy
the apprehensive moments
undertones of analytical desire
a weak confidence that
something will click into place
like a clock with an untrained craftsman
oh, it is an overexerting process
that I have come to with trepidation
and though I do not mean
to be incoherent
I have heard this song and dance
a disproportianate amount of times
I am waiting for a master craftsman
that doesn't irritate
who has an inventive solution
a dexterity of preoccupations
in which an eloquent knowledgeable
being may find exhilarating
Yes, I have grown tiresome
of these human relations
and so, master craftsman
give me affrimation
of your existance
I have grown weary of this journey
and no longer wish to assume repitition
crayon box
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