poem

stressed out

When i think of all the times,
As i fluently spit this rhymes,
I start to realize,
That the world is more cruel,
Every passing day is a duel.

Without a doubt the constant,
Pleasure we yearn for is distant,
Define the things we need,
I'll tell you you're high on weed

We waste time fighting pain
When that's all we need to gain
A foothold to fight the disdain
And for honor we need to reclaim.

The soul is a wonderful thing,
Fragile, yet powerful in feeling,
The pain we inflict, daily ever increasing.