In the spirit of thanksgiving, I wrote a song, but I suck at music, so well call it a poem, or a rap. I thank everybody, for just being. Overloaded with work, Annoying Reddit circle-jerk, Crazy drivers goin’ berserk, Frustration at mother’s irking. ten-eighty-P quality not buffering, And an untied shoe string. The problems, the tribulations, life’s an ordeal. My phone’s battery is low, Fret over the status quo, My car’s been towed. Why I gotta mow the grass? Points docked for being late to class, Having to fly economy-class. The struggle is real. The struggle is real. It don’t matter I’m an atheist, I only have people preaching their religion, Not killing others for having a different one. Driving ain’t that dangerous, I insist. Don’t text, don’t drink; Care in hazy vision. It ain’t IED’s, RPG’s, or a machine gun. Acne? Go to a dermatologist. Depression? Go see a psychiatrist. Where the doctors for malaria or aids? Where the doctors for legs blown by grenades? Recognize, our struggle’s but an inconvenient hitch, Surmise, our pain’s but a slight itch Apprise others That if we don’t thirst, That if we don’t hunger, That if we’re not roofless, Our struggle ain’t shit. Our struggle ain’t shit. Arise, grateful, Our struggle ain’t shit. Our struggle ain’t shit.
Posted on: Thu, 28 Nov 2013 02:48:05 +0000