I speak candidly off the record to those who ask.
when it comes time for petty own thoughts, But.
Why does a person live a life, without living their life?
My stomach twists and flops with obligatory anxieties, living life unfulfilled creates nothing but a desire to be killed.
The 30 second-intervals of the smoke detector beeps
Squeezing myself out of the egg, and we're off
Five minutes is all it takes, then I'm up on a broken-boarded bed.
I think about nothing, and everything - desires to sing, endless dreams far-removed from these waning streams
One morning, or afternoon - a guiltless charles' the only to know
The egg will crack, in a cold-empty room
And, then through; no longer a-chiefed
One step toward the moon, finally allowing the lovers swoon, and all before the stroke of noon.