Fevors the disastor,
The misplaced ticking in ones head,
Impossible compromise,
Tune this out til dead.
A garden of misanthropy,
Timidly hiding at your wake,
Seize that moment,
And deal your cards next mistake.
Condolances, apologies,
Mean of anything to the matter,
You awake another day,
Somewhat seeming your better.
Reality sunrise,
A delicious taste of lifes misunderstanding,
How provocative,
Your still not satisfying.
Moving at half a mile a second,
Worlds starting to collapse,
You over indulge your diginity,
Suddenly you find beauty in relapse.
Back to the start of the vicious cycle,
Where everyone plays your rue,
Step, beaten, and battered,
No one defends little ol' you.
Ignored day in and day out,
Can never seem to make it right,
Clocks gaze you with impatience,
Until your long out of everyones sight.
So,
This word, "compromise"
Fuck its definition,
Because they are always going to be.
"Dissatisfied"
As long as you are around. |