When is it my time to get the most of this?
Just sitting here idly by,
While I watch other birdies take off and fly,
Its killing me on the inside.
Its your turn to listen now,
Sit there and let you trip out,
On my most famed sense of imagery,
It’s the person who I thought I’d be.
Colors are vibrating and escaping every crack and crevasse,
Piercing the eyes through what seems a vague existence.
That’s all we are, not even on a comprehensive basis.
But at least you have the decency to
Listen while I read this.
It’s not in the human genome to cure for one another,
Even though you grew up looking at
Him as through he were your brother.
The only thing I care about is
Myself, and my mother.
— happyMess (transcribed by Sangretti)