You can't always put your thoughts into words,
Like describing an action without any verbs,
Finally given the chance to say how i feel,
Train of thought is lost, as well as appeal,
And then when given the chance to shine,
And skate upon the successful line,
I crumble and fade with the breaking storm,
Left unsatisfied, skeptical, torn,
It might just be me, breaking my stride,
But sometimes i feel im not really alive,
Have i died, or did i ever exist,
There must be a goal I've somehow missed,
Have fun be young, or plan for the future,
Which way to turn, its an obvious stuper,
Tempermentally caught up in all of the games,
Be rich, be sexy, or cling to lost fame,
When shown the light and finally the way,
You're halfway through earths final day,
So much advice, and so little fact,
Be good up front, and evil in back,
They all tell lies, and hide their black souls,
A lite salad for dinner, then crack in their bowls,
You try to be happy, as hard as it seems,
The rich must be content, when the poor have no means,
They've got the beamers, the bentleys, or rolles,
As well as cold greed, just check the polls,
You may want more, or not have enough,
But less is more, its true i trust,
Or is it a lie, for the malcontent,
Rich people own, I'll always rent,
Building their wealth as fast as it spends,
I have no stocks, but at least I have friends,
Was i really that bad at planning ahead,
I must have been, I'm already dead....
-Z
