I’m not looking for fame.

I’m not looking for reason.

I think that I’m alive

But that’s such a subjective meaning.

I just want you to know,

I just need you to feel,

Moments like this will grow

Or perhaps become something less ideal.

I think that you should take a minute.

I think that you should contemplate.

These inhibitions and false fruit

Are slowing your cerebral baud rate.

To think that this verbiage sounds nice

To offer a sense of responsibility

You’d think that I’d adhere my own advice

And stick with a sense of relatability.

Because that’s all I really have to offer.

Remember, I never sought out fame.

Just some letters and verses in a coffer.

A verbal knockoff of sugar, an aspartame.

Know that, like you, I have my bad days.

Know that tomorrow had never existed.

Ponder these notions, forever and always

Know turmoil, love have always coexisted.

Another Bad Day…