This is a sad poem,
but it's a beutiful day.
with the blue sky and a breeze
to cast the sad away.
ok.
But I am far to lazy to do anything about it.
I could be working,
I could be strong.
I could be doing anything.
But instead I'm writing the words to this song
with the sun shining down I know,
that there is an end to reaching my goals
I would not go.
it's name is "Comfort."
I got up to plan my future.
I Sat back down to think.
I tried to be a thinker
but my thoughts dripped out like a sink
and stained the tile
in the kitchen of my dreams.
what am I to do? who knew, was it you?
true too it that my thoughts
would be useless.