Just, because we breathing composed
In the residence, well known of its status
It doth not mean, I am also having a chunk in the enduring repute
I am just an occupant
Whose day twitches when the sun rise
Then recess in times of the stars
Something I do not have to sight until withdrawal
Seeing it, retells me
What time is of the diurnal
What I have to grace with my presence, then refers me an invite
That I cannot contradict
Than to submit
Then remain to the next day
Till another period
To, weeks
And months,
And years
My life still clutches no other reputation
Exceeding that I personally own
Which advances in years
Away from bad advertising
And that, is my status
