You don't believe in passion, ration,
mix yourself in matches
where you root for both sides,
drown in tides, it's a free ride.
And there you'll hide from us,
hide from what's perilous
in your own damn hole,
your blackened soul,
racking your mind in misery,
negative thoughts and infamy.
Lost your sight,
how'd you think you could see me
when your mind's eye is running and hiding
away from your soul, that black little hole.
How unfair to use me
like an escape route.
I don't want that burden,
I ain't a man with a flute.
So you sit at home
eyes on your phone, thoughts roam,
wondering why you're alone.
"Isn't there a chaperone
to give my thoughts attention?"
And picking at your scabby bone,
you wish you had a clone-
forget it, for she too would moan,
and forget to hone her skills:
the same perils
that instill
negativity.
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