Too many years,
Of developing fears,
From empty beers,
And closed off ears.
Isn’t it weird, Isn’t it queer,
How innocence thought not dear,
How often I’d shed a tear,
For comfort that was left mere?
Now I’m nowhere but here,
Shifting to a new gear,
Struggling to persevere,
Through all that is left unclear.
Too many years, Too many fears,
Among many privileged peers,
Those far too cavalier,
Relief was nowhere near.
It’s just shire fear,
Whispering in my ear,
An elevated tier,
Of sadness commandeered.
It feels like a spear,
To lack the will to cheer,
Manhood continues to smear,
My heart burns and seers.
As this toilet global sphere,
Turns and spins per year,
Doomed remain we’re,
The other side is far yet near.