Not all things are perfect,
I am aware of that,
But there are days where I cannot seem to get by
Without soft-breathing in exhaustion
An “Oh ****…”
Or giving a “******”
A talking volume
When few or none are around
To scold me with their ears.
What, haven’t you heard “***” outside
Of TV sitcoms before?
Or "****" aside from around a college campus?
I still get reactions when these words are overheard
From my lips,
Though it’s my life,
And these words have a recurring frequency.
These words are not only a stress-reliever
For someone like me,
But simultaneously a linguistic culture,
A communicative temptation,
Yet also having a dominating expression,
Commanding no only attention
But seriousness.
Fine, do what you want,
Hurl my soul to eternal shame and torture,
But a “curse-ed” day is like a chimney,
Letting out the smoke
Of energy that powers my motivation and forwardness.