Our cycle of grit and grind
The brutal societal kind
Left the warm insides dry
To want ***** on the fly

Stretch the muscles sore
Yet he runs back for more
Forget the need to vent
Boy, you need to pay rent

Those arms toned healthy
By street dancing and Tai Chi
Are used as gears of machines
Or to wipe **** ***** clean

Those great young Picassos
Or those potential Platos
Have their way to top so steep
Since ideas and art are cheap

Those beautiful people
Paid to lend their *******
To wolves of superior collar
Proudly sorted by the color

The herd united in this song
La la la, there's nothing wrong
We are all numb as hookers
The system—the avid customer

the dank soil tightened
scent of relief after rain
sunset burned like sighs
in time the gray sky turns blue
so do the streaks in their eyes

lads water her mind
"You look so gorgeous today"
but she's done with scripts
she tests those eyes if they stay
when trivial beauty is stripped

This world is in disarray
Not an opinion
But a fact default in our minds
We are all alone

But this night is beautiful
Not a fact
But an opinion, silently borne
When your eyes speak to mine

I wish you told me more
Not about home
But when all our minds fly
I remember you like this

Play music through this cold ride
Not their rhapsodies
But just this one song
The only one we'll ever know

Seize the time we are out of
Not tomorrow
But tonight, you saved me
And this is enough

I drew the second third line
A first fourth one is on deck
Knew I inked them finely fine
Still, I go check and recheck

Marvelously filleted corners
Cleave an unsettling sound
Put compass back on paper
Just to make sure it's round

Anxiety was bound to happen
To the fifth first line I go back
Again, I sharpen and sharpen
But I give up, made it all black

Perfection is not my liberty
But a numb skin I wish to flay
Half of my mind seeks symmetry
Yet the other  half  
                                 is    in
                                          disarray

one must say, "I'm set"
for the noblest human role
of bearing a child
it is not just a fruit of
those nights we lack conviction