Now in these eyes, petrified, terrified, suicide,
In all the walks of life, fighting only to survive,
A man's pride is weaponized; his failings widely televised,
All the moments of love's bitter sweet,—by what we gingerfy,
Love is red; putting yourself out there to be hurt and jeopardize,
Learning from past mistakes,—change of character we gentrify.

Oh the next line; follow suit of a route to death wrapped in a necktie,
We envy to say "hie," but are accustomed to saying short goodbyes,
As life is a constant trial; walking court cases with a confident smile,
"Guilty or not," all of my shortcomings I press on in their denial.

I've walked a thousand's,—in a mile of every breath of time,
Though I haven't lived a while, I've seen plenty in these eyes.