Mr Nice Guy,
with a broken smile, shattered dreams, and tired knees.
Battered equals, divided by trades of thought. You think
too much, with idle hands so dangerous when you’re
All the time of the world, is too small to hold.
Or like the past in your hands, a bright future seems
too dim in your head. So while you’re living to impress,
and motivate others lost in the lights of life;
I know you’re constantly hoping to wake up dead.
Aren’t you already there?
You won’t be there alone too long, I’ll be joining you soon.
Let me not wake up dead. I’ll need to switch off my alarm.
What is self conversation in these minded walls;
What speaks louder,— a present, past or longing future,
Who do you follow to be the leader of tomorrow,
Who are your children to be; of what you make of yourself now,
And how do you treat yourself when the public eyes are off,
With the obvious expected responses of a nice guy?
Oh Mr Nice guy, you're too nice for the world.