Quick sonnet while I listen to music
The sound of Dennis Wilson, ocean blue
Soothing sounds as I let the day dissect
Tomorrow, resurrect things like you do
Or they resurrect themselves over you
Can't escape the cage, the trial, the bullshit
It's all fixed, decided, no room for new
Keep things as they are, the conservative
Mantra, it's something idealists can't lick
Best to give in maybe, but that's just sick
And weak, I know I'm happier when still true
I find it hard to lie, just doesn't stick
Would make me stressed trying to play that trick
Screw that, I'll do it my way, I have to
No comments:
Post a Comment