He said I always write sad poems
who I am with you,
is really who I am with my writing
I tell it like it is. I always say what I mean
It might be the poignant anxiety of my mind

I observed people, observing them make me
Wondered about their lethargic self-control over their own life
If it’s not about health, it’s about their love life  
Believe it or not, watching them helps me
Get through a rough morning:
When I compose their pitiful stories,

It gives me an adrenaline rush, so I unwind
With a paragraph or two, dropping my ideas here and there
While I pondered about their state of mind
I learn from their mistakes, I bottle them in an old Mason jar

And I move on to my next subject, and that would be
The images and faces of Political madness
in two thousand and seventeen

My followers, my friends!
The Liberal minded is dragging us down minute by minute
Yes, I love to write about sad things
That fetter me. The dead can’t write about them
The fearful are too afraid to speak up,
A good rehab center is so hard to find,  
No wonder they had to make marijuana legal
So I had to touch on certain subject before I die
Their isn’t love in the world today
The little that is left, someone wants to buy it

Self-respects and self-esteem, we must try to distinguish between the two my friends

Staying silent is like a slow growing cancer to the soul and a trait of a true coward.


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