the very translation of my vague emotions: tough to punctuate
thus it frustrates, me as to why this thing has become too much weight
for me everyday, my actions illustrate
the passiveness, the looking back to the past success
yet now i've turned into someone passionless.
lookout for what the current fashion is
i wear it on my sleeve, though i haven't gone completely
sadomasochist.
can't stand the arrogance, and the resonance
cuz what the fuck are you frontin for?
it's a rhetorical question to my ego that's got me wanting more.
it's something that not one can cure,
something that i won't ignore,
like a drug addict, i need something pure.
fine at 40:
