Twenty-six
What a **** mess
Kisses hugs with grubby little hands
Manners and crayons
No sleep and working
Trying to follow the chase for something we all crave
Hypocritically misbehaving
The money seems disgusting
Yet makes others smile while holding it tightly
We breed we try to succeed
What does it all mean
Beats me
I'm only twenty-six
I know nothing
Paper and pen scrape up my hand
Bruises hidden and blended in
No words of admiration or advice
Just listen to the lost and pretend to be found
Isn't that what makes the world go around