To know me is to be hopeless.
Helpless, lifeless, pitiful.
For this is what I am…no matter.
Nothing’s meant for meaningful.
My God, I am forever spinning.
Surviving on a needle’s head (this living has no life in it)
Finish strong running, get out of bed.
Give up.
So you think a battle wakes you up?
A war of greedy magistrate.
Questions asked from little people.
Answers gleaned from paperweight.
Truth couldn’t break you.
Love is not a choice.
And even when your life is over
Your bones still have a voice.
(don’t steal this. it’s copyrighted. go make up your own song during college economics.)
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