Ride against the waves of impunity,
You little fugitive of your own debts
Carry your despaired thoughts,
Happiness in scarcity.

In sin and in doubt of own mind
Join the mob of your clumsiness.
Waving goodbyes are too dim,
Too blurred and dimmed to be blessed.

As you face your cloaked enemies
All of them you see, are not clapping.
On the side of your observant eye
As you flourish your winnings.

As you beg for your emotions
To come back like a rebel child
Wandering through this black night
But not forgotten inside.

As you thirst for more of you
In your own catastrophic guessing,
What a wild turn around it is,
Ah, Unpredictably obsessing.

It's so delicious, I can almost taste,
A cumbersome feeling you copied and paste
like a feel of new shoes on a Monday laze
like a new washed car on an evening without haze.
'Tis penetrating your throat like menthol candy trace
curing your soreness while you tie your pretty lace.
It's like you're an attorney and you've won your case,
like a long and harsh run and exhausting chase.
It's near and you know you've almost conquered base,
as you sip your favorite soda in haze
while underneath the sheet of stars you gaze
as you seek for the path to this boring maze.
Slowly crawling  or extremely fast paced,
I still cannot seem to forget your beautiful face.

I'm battling a dead horse
Carrying steps like a wet noodle.
Slipping past on metal spikes
wounded and blood gargled.

Jumping on hurdles of fire
whispering a silent prayer,
Carrying a bag of hopeful beans,
Forced blinded on constraints aside.

As you slide ferociously without worries
without a natural glide and momentum,
your eyes tucked to my skinny soul
melting mine, through your serum

Hear the roar of butterflies,
dwelling on your stuffed stomach.
stinging on the walls of your intestine
As you give scissors to my rock.

As you shower me with humble options,
you've opt to show me your parts,
As I'm waiting for your affirmation
with your ******* people and placards

I'm a homeless skunk
wandering in the jungle.
dwelling in bushes and trees
shrugging to make a living.

I don't have a place called home,
Running and sick of pleasing.
I won't eat dinner
because I'm not one in the listing.

I don't have a private space
to store my valuable belongings
Neither nor for rest,
where an old sofa is my bedding.

Hard work and passion isn't an issue
and I crave for good sleep.
Peanut is what I got
During month ends and second week

I'm in a big hole of trouble
but I'm not backing off.
Problems are a common thing
when you're in a sliding *****.

Say, There is a *** of gold
in a little powder shed of understanding.
when fixing of the broken cracks,
is needing much help and pleading

And I lost a lot of friends,
but gained a few that's real,
Skunks themselves wandering
looking for a home and a heal.

You've infested the area
with unimaginable metaphors
lingering on those dull one liners,
and pop cultured influences.

This is not the place for your magoa,
for your scriptures are bold and bared.
I see, the trials in your world of context,
but never in the state of livsnjutare

Drinking cans of coke
makes you insanely, bloat
because I remember I am still a human
who's down and broke

When you find it a hard time
pleasing and doing sugarcoat.
on stuff and things you hate
when your up considering the goat.

As you rise and float
until you get extremely choked,
you hit the cold waters
down cold and get madly soaked

When no one cares even a poke
you see yourself holding a smoke
realizing and learning,
Your life is a big joke