Quien Sabe?
How much swag
Can you squeeze
Into your flee fitted?
How far can you
Pull the hoody
Over your crimson eyes
So you can keep
Breathing chronic air?
How loud
Will your quiet smoke be?
What ghosts
Do you carry
In your baggy jeans?
When does the grind
Become exhausting?
Where do you go
To release your screams
To the cloudy skies?
Why does the degree
Of difficulty turn up
As you switch the temperature?
Who sits
On the couch
Of your corazon’s closet?
How bright
Are the thoughts
Of your dark brain?
Why do you
Camouflage so easily
With the shadows?
Why does
Your small talk
Have large consequences?
When will
The monotonous GroundHog Day
In the glorious ghetto
Ever end?
What will be
The sale price
Of your brand new life
Customized
With no fuckery
For the future?
No comments:
Post a Comment