I'm bored of writing poetry,
engulfed in all my cries...

A rubber coated metal bench
that stands up against the wall...

In life, sometimes, you'll be dealt a bad hand.
It isn't your fault, you must understand...

All I desire,
is an autonomous life...

All you guys don't have to leave,
in time the site will be retrieved...

Pollen touches the tip of my nose,
legs weaken, testosterone flows...

When I die, I will not be placed beside my pen,
nor will my soul dwindle on this petty earth...

I've had problems with gas in the past.
Sometimes, they just slip out too fast...

Love
So Blind...

Today you are my inspiration,
I've never known someone like you...

I wonder what Martin would think,
if he took a look at our generation...

Blood drips from my veins,
like rain from the sky...