by N. Cullen.

Created on: May 13, 2008

AND YOU THINK ITS SO EASY: MAYBE

A day in my life,
lacking a wife,
or substance of choice,
a voice,
speaks to me as i sleep,
holds my shoulders while I weep,
'he's gone' they say,
until another day
the voice rings
sings
gets me out of bed
allows me to follow precedent
without infraction
or
incident
follow the order
social order and border
with all allies, and enemies alike,
cause we all have to fight
to survive
but people still starve
while people still throw away unfished food,
like the food do no good
to people who are starving,
while others eat
and
eat
and
eat
its disgusting
revolting
detestable tyranical
lyrical integrity lost
for who is found
in a day in my life.

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