Cant help but think
therefore
I
am
and
am
I
?


so  
what then do
I
think
of
me


go
to the brink
of depravity
leap without looking
a philanthropist
?
driven to be
.....
the most giving
in history?

the
way I
see
is corrupt ?
or ist
this world
swallowed by
demons
and
the scars they wear on thier sleeve
augment thier view of my intentions
no good deed goes unpunished
Im the whipping boy for the world
beatin
emotionally
lover full
of archaic
daydreams
I cant remember me
and the old me
would shy away
in
sweet
miserable
self destructive
decay
I dream of sleeping
so here ill stay