FixXxer
Bluelighter
"wait until you get to my age" he says
as he does the same things
he's always done before
allowing his memories to drown him sore
forgetting the creative power he has inside stored
seen the dark side of life, that can't be ignored
he wages war,
on time, thinking his faults are always fine
unwilling to learn or redefine. but he will find
he may be fixing that next life.
reborn again to make it right
he's said gave up the fight
but you can see the bitterness of his sight
smell the stench of his blight
seeing only darkness at night
try to offer him advice
but it must be of his own resolve
if he could slightly evolve,
he could likely solve
his little problems
but his heart needs it most tenderly
I stretched, and noted, "I could use some energy"
his wretched tone spoke to me like an enemy
"it hurts now?.. wait until you're my age"
"when you're old and you're grey"
hoping I never felt that way,
i agreed, "your life is yours"-tage
"not everyone makes it to your age"
he sighed, "you can't say I never tried"
but inside he knew his clever lie,
maybe that's what hurts his severed pride?
.
.
.
the arrogance of youth
thinks it is the truth
not necessarily wrong, but lacking backing experience
its curiosity strong, and hindsight forgets to be serious
with infinite foresight for the creative process
sometimes ignorance is bliss,
eventually we all learn this,
but the only way to learn is to be wrong
we don't all see that until we're gone
hopefully we can still reminisce
in the creative power that still exists
when you persist in resisting feeling pissed
or letting your mind insist, "it is what it is"
although that's a good temporary answer.
rather, than sit in crappiness,
you can rest if you don't feel your best
until you can gather, the strength, to make, happiness
as he does the same things
he's always done before
allowing his memories to drown him sore
forgetting the creative power he has inside stored
seen the dark side of life, that can't be ignored
he wages war,
on time, thinking his faults are always fine
unwilling to learn or redefine. but he will find
he may be fixing that next life.
reborn again to make it right
he's said gave up the fight
but you can see the bitterness of his sight
smell the stench of his blight
seeing only darkness at night
try to offer him advice
but it must be of his own resolve
if he could slightly evolve,
he could likely solve
his little problems
but his heart needs it most tenderly
I stretched, and noted, "I could use some energy"
his wretched tone spoke to me like an enemy
"it hurts now?.. wait until you're my age"
"when you're old and you're grey"
hoping I never felt that way,
i agreed, "your life is yours"-tage
"not everyone makes it to your age"
he sighed, "you can't say I never tried"
but inside he knew his clever lie,
maybe that's what hurts his severed pride?
.
.
.
the arrogance of youth
thinks it is the truth
not necessarily wrong, but lacking backing experience
its curiosity strong, and hindsight forgets to be serious
with infinite foresight for the creative process
sometimes ignorance is bliss,
eventually we all learn this,
but the only way to learn is to be wrong
we don't all see that until we're gone
hopefully we can still reminisce
in the creative power that still exists
when you persist in resisting feeling pissed
or letting your mind insist, "it is what it is"
although that's a good temporary answer.
rather, than sit in crappiness,
you can rest if you don't feel your best
until you can gather, the strength, to make, happiness
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