Addicted to diction,
With conflicting
Prescriptions
From competing
Physicians,
I'm dying from sickness
In the wealthcare system.
Our nutrition
Is based on
Corn-laced fiction,
Advertisement
Superstitions,
And a pill for every
Devised affliction.
We're born into life
Under welfare
Conscription,
And destined to die
From dereliction.
Make sure to vote
For the best
Infection in the
Next election,
As they raise
A toast
To their own
Reflections.

You've forgotten me now haven't you? You've lost my taste haven't you?

Alright forget it. I'm winning this battle of what's written. I could care less for how careless you've been with my love and abuse the way I'm smitten by the way our hands are fitting. I'm at wits end and it seems like it worsens when I see you; it's a curse and I can't help but be hurt, but wouldn't you too if you knew that every chance you took to make a glance and look my way would make me who I'd like to be? Me without you is a totally different thing from you without me, because one's alright and ones okay; Ones fine and the other won't say; one is her and the other is me.
But really, it's truly okay to exclaim these fluorescent thoughts that can be said as dark as night or bright as the day.

It's hard to forget those eyes so big and bright.
It's hard to forget the hair so soft and glowing in moon light.
It's hard to forget.
Or maybe it's because you already have that I can't.
Because it was too easy for you.
Easier than it should've been.