What makes you tick?
That's a hard question to answer, because my answer's not quick.
See, every good story has a conflict and a solution,
And it feels so incomplete not to embrace this constitution.
So for the aesthetic, rhetoric, and poetic engagement,
I'll present my answer solid like pavement.
A true prophet and poet not only speaks but can walk
So while I explain what makes me tick,
I know the clock goes tick tock.
I would hate to spend more time discussing my pet peeve,
then actually hitting the streets, and pulling up my sleeves,
so let me not waste any more time.
I'm asking that you would lean in, please.
Lean in because you're probably sitting in a chair
A chair that could be sold to feed a homeless man
But you probably don't care.
That's his business, not yours
Bad decisions probably landed him there anyways
Or maybe they didn't and life was unfair
But that's much too hard process or accept,
Because it pushes you to care.
But that's the worst part.
You're scared to care.
So instead you fight your God-given instinct
Your moral conscience that separates you from an insect
A morale and standard beyond self-preservation,
that urges you to sacrifice your comfort for their edification.
But you're scared and you're selfish.
That's my pet peeve!
Oh, how I wish you could see what I see!
Feel what I feel
It'd be a revolution!
Yeah, I'm telling you the problem,
But what if you're the solution?
Oh, but I forgot you're scared.
And I'm not using reverse psychology
In fact I'm not even talking to you.
This whole time I've been talking to me.