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With inner conviction I have sat many a day trying to make sense out of this thing. What is the use of the 60 years (45 unless I screw myself into a 45 AIDS story)if I neva got what really mattered. What the hell do I care if I go now or later, what can assure me that my life is not a cosmic joke that I am not an experiment to a God who has exhauseted creativity, why should I believe that I came here to do more than just pump adrenalin and cum into second rated condoms, what will make me feel good after having a life of luxury, hot baths, internet and digitals if others lie on hard concrete floors infested with a heavy stench of urine?
What is it that makes me better than the thief and the murderer...should I continue to tell myself I worked hard for what I have? Should I tell myself life does not make sense and so decide o continue with life as it is pretending nothing is wrong with the universe? Shit, something is amiss and I know you feel it too. The truth is , I am sick of thinking of life as something that looms on us...enough is enough, I am larger than melvin, I am larger than a youngster after tight blue jeaned women who have nothing but a good lay for me...I admitt it finally, I am Evil. Its in me its in my soul and it thrives on my being. I am Diabolic in every sense of the meaning! So help me Goodness for I have forsaken hypocrisy. I hate all that is conflicting my wickedness.
Too many a times I tried to let it go, now my life is slipping away,slowly wisping away....
All seems lost and hopeless if not for the glance of life you threw me once when our stars we crossed... or some romantic crap like that!
THIS IS NOT A FUCKING LOVE POEM SO GET THE IDEA OUT OF YOUR HEAD. Cable crts run through my mind, reminescent of times when I had hope it was not as bad as this.FUCK THIS POEM IS GETTING PATHETIC!!!!!!!! That`s it I quit! |
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