The steaming beam from the shower floods cheaply
Pen ink always drips of limerence and scuds deeply
Painting the getaway in a never ending mess
Lead a life of vast nothingness in a shrunken head
Learn, regret piece by piece is de bene esse
A can with my brain in it is capped and set aside
Black-hole thoughts flit when rapt attention died
Nothing in this universe is real, along with my morsel pride
All I know is that this planet's soul is our goal to find
Penning about something abysmally meaningless, with only a speck of heart
Passing all the signs of the slow decline, whilst lonely with my flecks of art
If I stood in front of a speeding car, in circles I'd potrude or be flexed apart