No meaning if you write fast enough
Glasses because contacts hurt
Willingly push past the lame
Options you leave me without you
And without me for that matter
Sculpt a dream of life
Live a sculpture of dreams
Play a song that touches punks
And maddens lesser
I need a microphone to live my life
Find a true existence and ask
For more fashions
Ask for fortune and ambiance
You won’t find it because
We all tried too hard
Back off – drum away
Your sorrows – lift your
Arms and twist your fingers
I can see them in my hair and
Throughout my clothing
You stop, breathe and wish
For excellence. I wish
For more than mundane passion
This page is like a haiku
Hotel paper
It’s actually amazing that
No one else complains about
My ugly cuticles, or your
Ugly heart. We all wear
Black socks and attempt to ignore
Brittany Spears – unfortunately
We all live in the real world
