You might figure out this poem's about you,
Just by the way the first verse goes,
It's not easy being me under the heavens,
Living lonely and empty since I've ran out of weed again,
Text real late, Asking can I eat again?
Can I have this dance?
F*ck you, next please,
Am I really that bad?
I haven't even had a chance to be bad,
I could be an ugly piece of sh*t,
If you let me, if you're open,
But it's even worse when you don't take time,
To learn, to hurt, to bliss, to miss,
It's like you need your trackstar,
A world star,
A fake f*ck,
Sure money can solve old problems,
But you don't know that it breeds room for worse problems,
Sure we all want a decent life,
Nice home, nice things,
No bubble bursts,
But then what about meaning your life?
Do you want to be happy?
Or do you want meaning?
If you have meaning, happiness is second nature,
If you want happiness, then tomorrow you gotta find it again,
I don't want this poem to be about you,
But it's clear that I can't say that it's not for you,
Or that I thought of you as I wrote this,
Or that I wish you could read this,
But just like all the words in my songs,
The dreams never last,
Next year's my last,
Blue dreams that'll never shine...
©retroletgo
R