I sit and ponder lifes arithmetic, Trying to find solutions to equations grasping why Im in this shit, Its like..Ah fiddle sticks, Its like a riddle that benches the mind pass overtime, Glued to crunch time, an extended grind like teeth meeting in deep sleeps, I must feast on a higher thinking, Food for thought keeps the jealous seeking, and the weirdos peeking while your peaking, This bleak aroma comas your process to discover, Its like a baby born without the mother and fed by another, Bottles half full staying hungry will get me to succeed, My ambition will subtract the wants and the needs, Blissful until I no longer be. _Shaun Poet
Posted on: Thu, 28 Nov 2013 04:50:05 +0000
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