I'm a lazy man, yet taken care of.
I'd be able to fulfill the needs love
if I worked for it. I don't, lacking,
good or bad, no opinion. Cracking
the dresscode with a single pinch.
People react differently, in clinch,
with themselves, closer to a flinch,
saved, suddenly from this public lynch.
I'm leaving town, not because I can
not handle their judging faces,
not because my past action chases
me every wake moment. These cases
of pressure come in groups, it loops
and never ends, like despondent troops
I know I'm making a fool of myself and people will think I'm desperate and hopeless,
maybe I am, maybe I'm not, but I don't care, at least I'm being true, done with dresscodes.