A Poem By The More Synical Me
For all in life that we do love, It is but fleeting like a dove, And in the early hours of this day, I find that it is time to lay. Into the dreary trance called sleep, Which cause angels not to laugh but weep, The eerie warmth of the day that breaks, The life I lead it takes and takes. As the clock ticks on and by, The daylight hours are drawing nigh, My life has changed upon the year, Not for better but worse i fear. There are some things i want to say, Too bad I don't have all this day, With life there is a limit counting down, For tomorrow i could choke or drown. This is a story of a life that's wasted, The life I want yet to be tasted, The darkness is now drawing near, And the story now rests here. Not bad for a bit of sleep deprivity and a powerful essence of tobacco and stimulation drinks
For all in life that we do love, It is but fleeting like a dove, And in the early hours of this day, I find that it is time to lay. Into the dreary trance called sleep, Which cause angels not to laugh but weep, The eerie warmth of the day that breaks, The life I lead it takes and takes. As the clock ticks on and by, The daylight hours are drawing nigh, My life has changed upon the year, Not for better but worse i fear. There are some things i want to say, Too bad I don't have all this day, With life there is a limit counting down, For tomorrow i could choke or drown. This is a story of a life that's wasted, The life I want yet to be tasted, The darkness is now drawing near, And the story now rests here. Not bad for a bit of sleep deprivity and a powerful essence of tobacco and stimulation drinks