not really
not
real
y
it is strangling this struggle and no matter it seems if i triple norph i double my efforts
the best worst is all i can get for lo
for woe
is me the issue
ive reinvented myself many times over
and no matter how far i bend backwards over
there seems to be no fourth leaf to my clover
fields of dreams are more pipe fitting than
reality seams
to deem fitting to fit me with fights
and i get the sharp point
and i been anointed
with oil with smoke
still poked, jester joked
through fire in hell
like as if the bitch mother earth is spelled WITCH
im bound
to be Christ
disliked and nailed
this cross is my destiny
my lips
on my boss'
his ass her ass
the asses
the masses
why for am i slow to find it
destiny like a snail in molasses
i want it now like that snotty chick from willy wonka
my dreams i cant catch them in outfield
im going extinct like Kevin Costner's tatonka
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