I secretly despise you
For your forced rejection of status quo
Your fascination with death and crows
Even though it's clear death frightens you
Your incessant opinion that you're a virtuoso
So loud, the ear begs to be free, says Van Goh
Yet, you act and strut around without a clue

I secretly hate you
For you disregard tomorrow
Focusing solely on your ego

I secretly envy you
Because at least you're good
At playing this game