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Jeremy Betts Jun 17
This humble pie
Is more like a shiit sandwich on rye
With a side of sty
Now there's a plank firmly implanted in each pink eye
Life's painful, but I'm suppose to be too mocho to cry
No one knows how many times I've wanted to die
Or the number of times I gave it a good ol' college try
Who do you think I am... no really, who am I
I think I'm my own stories fall guy
Fall back on the lie
That I can fix it all with a slipknot neck tie
What's more influential? Good or evil
In my experience it's surely a tie
But between you and I
The devil has more pull that the "infallible" eye in the sky
Call 'em both out, see who stops by
Or even bothers to reply
My money's on the pitchfork guy


©2024
Sam Apr 2018
Well, I've come up with my diagnosis,
And I believe that you are infected.
Yes, indeed, it's a parasite, in fact,
But don't you worry. It can be dealt with.
Unfortunately, it cannot be cured.

Do you perhaps remember feeling
That you could do anything as a child?
Do you remember internalizing
The confidence and power that youth brought?
Do recall those sensations?

I can predict the rest. Someone stopped you,
Told you to think realistically.
Put you down, causing you to doubt yourself.
Doubt. That is what you are infected with.
And as of then, it has been part of you.
I was inspired to write this after listening to my friend's nervous remarks about his performance in a musical.

— The End —