The way my life goes,
I feel the need for ego’s.
For every man believes he’s best,
When all he is, is nothing but a jest.
Forever I strive like a knight,
Night and day against all odds I fight,
Even when there’s a lingering doubt,
About all the battles that I’ve ever fought,
For various causes with unimaginable result.
All I saw were assholes trying to assert,
What they thought was might,
Only to fall down mid-flight.
A rudderless ship I still remain,
Eternally, In neck deep electric pain,
Like a wingless plane,
But making sure all people see is the smooth plain,
Of an exterior running calm,
Hiding a turmoil, like a barn in a farm.
To try and find my bearings I search,
Frowning at the way’s fools like a grouch,
Only to find my way I trample,
Trying, on my way every sample,
Knowing that they are all the same,
Similar stuff with just a different name.
I wonder though “What will happen
If I let the winds in my sail slacken?”
So I run around, fearing a broken mast,
And my wings shearing off from flying too fast,
In already a rudderless state,
Awaiting my next wrong mate,
Wondering what the hell is that I need,
To stay happy without a glass of mead.