I
had
all these
plans
for today
but
after I took
a few tokes
of that
Christmas Tree
I can’t do ****,
except lay here
and feel the vibrations
from all the traffic
on Old 60

I wake up every morning
and try to be fruitful
do something, say something
try to be useful
but I realize at the end of the day
that I’m just filling time
with these meaningless things

I play games,
I write things,
exercise,
get some sleep

feel the burn,
toss and turn,
then I rinse and repeat

and if, for some reason
I didn’t get up
then it’d all be the same
‘cos no one gives a ****

my love says I need help,
and that ****** me off
‘cos I know there’s no pill
that can make this all stop

when you have no desire
too tired to live
those antidepressants
aren’t gonna do ****