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Spilling
Have you ever been so sick you struggle to get out of bed,
Because everyday is a test, but what learned left you misled,
Does your stomach feel with dread because your life is less than blessed,
When you try its not enough so every test you just detest,
Searching for someone to brighten up your days,
Yet you move through life looking through dim shades,
Its a shame how only deaf ears are eager to listen,
So i speak and you listen and yet the message is still missing,
So i write these feelings down hoping that they catch your vision,
and may the sight before your eyes give your decision some revision,
If not I'll understand only fools can't comprehend,
That life is a game and everyday there's a new hand,
Or a new rule to bend, or maybe a new rule you wish to enforce,
Yet along life's course there's sharp turns with little remorse,
We have no way to slow down so we brace for impact,
But while you fear the crash, i only loath the aftermath,
My only worries involve the prolonged exit from my life that seems to be destined,
Subjected to dementia by my own self-conscious noxious from my thoughts but inside I'll only vomit,
Why you may ask,
and to you i ask,
whats the point of spilling your guts, if your just gonna have to pick it all back up? -Devonte Mack
