Clumsily, cluelessly, capriciously;
Varying walks of life, and such varied
ways of walking. Crawling and or quickly-
they advance through the concrete corridors.

~Completely unaware of the outside world
or anything other than themselves, for that matter.~

The issue lies in the wanting of more.
I've not much left to give and I'm sickly
'cause everybody's got their friends-big leagues.
From me to you, its not simple. Like harried
marriage; marred and probably charred, but

this is war-
~extra judiciously~

Reading some homework
The day seems like artwork
Has the sky ever been so blue

Three guys toss a frisbee
perilously near me
shirtless boys silhouetted in turquoise

We’ve got our shades on
We pretend not to watch em’
But we know they’re putting on a show.

We’ve got fold up recliners
and we set a timer
to move to the shade in a minute or two

But the sun seems distracted
cooler and less radioactive
dozens of students are out on the quad

The trees aren’t just standing
the breeze has them dancing
to ‘Blood in the Cut’, a song by ‘K.Flay’

On this cool, near-fall holiday
We’ll while our day away
each of us claiming a chance to relax

Now that we’re juniors, we know the facts
We get that there’s still a lot of reading to do
but we know, we can have a little fun too.
What else would you expect us to do?

I think back on my childhood.
Times that we're still good,
Before they switched it up,
Like, "Now it's time for adulthood."

Spent 18 years behind a desk,
Told to play at break,
Now life feels unrelated, and it feels like a **** waste.

It isn't useless, it just isn't right.
Train me to throw fists,
Then toss me into a knife fight.

What'd you prepare me for?
I still struggle with my taxes,
I got a degree, but it feels like I'm still stuck with all the masses.

After all these years,
It feels like I was taught wrong,
Guided down a path that my heart and soul didn't sit right on.

And every now and then
I start to fight back,
But no one likes it when you start to vary off the track.
They pushback
Like, "No, not that".
But I am not you.
So, **** that!
And I struggle but you can't see it though.
Always talk about me like I'm a lazy bloke,
Say I'm part of the lazy folk,
But your path to happiness,
Is my ******* hell road.

I think back on my childhood.
Times that we're still good...

At least, that's how it felt back then...

Put all your Dreams, in your Locker.
They are too precious to Display.
Someone may be out to Steal them.
When U are sleeping the Night Away.
Learn to live Life mediocre,
Don't flash around your Wealth.
Your Life, is no School Play.
Someday U will be chasing Health.
There will be no outburst of Glitter,
When U make it to the end of Life.
This is from Me, a sweet reminder.
Coz Life is full of Strife.

five o'clock on Sunday night
we down two bottles of pink ******* wine - classy
Jesus Christ applauds our dedication to his
"this do in remembrance of me" mentality

after four ******* hours of straight communion
we are one with the universe
praying only for security in something
“don't judge me,” she says “don't judge me,”
we've reached that point

we found ecstasy in dizziness - in daydreams
sure enough, we found there was
some kind of magic quality
inherent in these substances
that we were guaranteed to abuse

but it seems we must have been
the worst of marksmen
because I know we matched each other
shot for shot that night
and never once made contact
**** that

we went from being worshiped to ignored -
untouchable
like the ******* gimps of the Hindu caste system
**** Karma
what did we do to be so low?
it didn't make good sense
so we just kept drinking
because that's the only thing that did

We were
People of another caliber
Not so
Concerned with things like college algebra
Still we
Had to pass our finals so we’d
Meet up
For about an hour to study
But when I got to your place
It was the look on your face
The only question I got to
Was

Where should I put
My hands on you
Where should I put
My hands on you

We went
Out to grab a cup of coffee
And we
Talked about our thoughts on philosophy
I was
Partial to more modern theory
But you
Still seemed to be hung up on Socrates
But as you waved your arms around
Your point was proven and I found
I ought to ask you what to do
So

Where should I put
My hands on you
Where should I put
My hands on you

Saturday mornings growing up
my mother made me clean the bathroom

. windex . bleach
. scrub brush . rags
. mop . bucket . broom . dustpan
. lots of paper towels

she insisted I clean the bathroom
every Saturday morning
before I did anything else
with absolutely no chance of an allowance
she paid me plenty she said

. shelter . food . clothing
. television . internet . video games
. books . some sort of education

not to mention

. life

“do it because you love me”

so waking up Saturday
meant cleaning the bathroom

it meant my hands reeked of chemicals
while my friends enjoyed games I couldn't join
it meant I missed the best of all
the cartoons everyone else watched
it meant I didn’t feel like loving my mother

for years I begrudgingly

. scrubbed . wiped . cleaned

that bathroom
until it sparkled - until it shined
like the top of the Chrysler building

. sink . mirror
. toilet . tub
. floor

all of it spotless
love you mom

then in college
there's this woman that I'm living with
this woman that provides me with

. shelter . food . clothing
. television . internet . etc.

and she makes me feel alive
so I clean her bathroom
and when she asks me, “why?”
all I can think to say is

“I did it because I love you”

and it feels like that's the truth