Male pattern baldness mixed with the mindfulness he lacks,
a shell of a man halting my cognitive tracks.
If I could just throw my morality aside,
I'd lunge at the old man and close his beady eyes.
I slam my head into the desk.
I ram these pens into my chest.
We've lost this nice simplicity.
There goes the kid inside of me.
I stood there
This setting has caused my despair
Where's a close window, no sign of my benzos
The daisies are in the air and I'm stuck here.