and so I am again wonderig why
The whispers call to me dryly
I have finished my bottle of cheap whiskey
Why
I am bothered now when these plants sit idly
Bt
Have I, a hard time staring at myself
Why
I have nothing subtantial to prose though
Time
Is a scary eye full of what could happen
I own nothing.
I have earned a place in waste
My only skills include
Being amicable when pressure mounts
Visualizing paradise in the seeds I've found
May they learn a ******* lesson