Sometimes in life

The reason of existence seems to fade

The skin of the soul begins to degrade

And I can’t see a road, I can’t see a way

Like a car stuck in mud, all efforts come undone

The life is full of unworthy crap

I wish I was a gangster but………

I am a robot; I am a waste bin!

My mind is provoked and its muscles harden

This fucking life has no logic, no magic

All dreams burn with the morning alarm

Every thought is as mundane as a cup of espresso

Alas….I try to gather some free peace

I wish to gather some extravagant hope

I try to get the music back in my veins

I wish to create my life in my next life

But….I smell alcohol & ego on my name 

I see myself as a caramelized piece of shit

The ugly me…I feel at stakes

I hear me proving a point to God’s own mistakes

The vibes get hatefully pressing

Every move lands me in the arms of skunks

What do I do, what do I say?

I can’t see a road, I can’t see a way!

I thought I was

Till I realized everyone was.

When the life was on stake,

they fucked up rarely

and managed a perfect situation barely.

So, I believed I ain’t

till I figured nobody ain’t.

When a job was on stake,

perfection was kept aside

and deadlines were kept beside.

Bewildered me, I questioned up….what was perfection?

And just who was perfect?

It was my life’s POA

the only conspicuous thing I could confect.