i call this the 3:30am ditty/rhyme/wrap/poem...whatever the hell you want to call it.

I jammed my finger in the dresser drawer
The pain made me ponder: is this real or is there more?
Oh, inside I screamed like a ready tea pot
And I wondered if you would help me or not

Now to the next I continue as Mraz
Don't you worry, I haven't lost my pizzaz
Cuz seeing 2 z's in a row makes me hungry
This is turning out to be quite funny

Getting back to the lonely subject at hand
This won't require piano or even a band
It's the international sound that everyone hears
It's the sadness surrounding, that evokes our tears
But sometimes we have nothing there to cry
We can only express it in our wish to die
So let yourself feel, "surrender to this pose"
Stop smelling only the bitter, pick up the scent of a rose
Because it will be too late, aas time will tell,
You don't want your legacy label to be that you fell.

You may ask: what about it should I do?
That's up to you, or you know who
You do that which you do and you'll see what I mean,
That flowing assembly, that oiled machine.
That is your routine. It's beginning to break
So go with the change, for your life's own sake
Let a piece fall off and let it make a sound
The truth will develope and you will be found

So this is the end of my childish rhyme
I tried to write deep, but this is all I could find
Maybe if one finds something inside
It will benefit me , them, all along for the ride
That we happen to call life, but that's just a term
For the places we go, the things that we learn.
So take your own advice: live, be free
None of this really has to do with me.


i felt like writing, this is what i wrote. i should sleep but i cant. goodbye.