poem about living with poetry

it's only 11:08am
and I want to shoot myself 
in the face.

I should be
using my talents elsewhere
in a more meaningful way. 

but I am stuck here,
in the land of commas 
and common sense.

where does the day go
when it doesn't go 
anywhere?

I am more than
the t-shirt that I wear;
I wish I believed that.