everyday,,
its all the same
its the same just a different day
and I'm doomed to spend them all
trying to find out why,
i waste everyday,
till i completely waste myself away,
and i can't escape,
these walls i create,
and its a shitty life that I fake,
like the things i sayy.
and the things i take,
but words don't change;
what I am today,
and I've lost my life to this world;
to these walking illusions,
and we're all halfway dead,
we are nothing more than what the scientist says,
we are all brains and mess,,
but animals, born and bred.
and words don't fix mistakes,
and poetry will never make life great.
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