I once dated a girl named Jane
Man, how she drove me insane

I once dated a girl named Daisy
Man, how she drove me crazy

I once dated a girl named Lexy
Man,  she was nothing but ****

I once dated a girl named Dove
Man, she was one I could love

I once dated a girl named Susie
Man, she use to try and use me

I once dated a girl named Trish
Man, she was so full of ****

I once dated a girl named Cat
Man, she actually got to fat

I once dated a girl named Wendy
Man, she always gave me plenty

The girls we come by in life
That want to be a wife

The girls we come by in life
That just want to play house

The girls we come by in life
That no nothing about life

The girls we come by in Life
That think life is a game

The girls that we come by in life
That we can actually love

So we sift through the girls
To find our one true love

Is it actually possible that serendipity exist
Is there that one person that is perfect for you

Can one love, actually last a life time

this depression
grips me like the rope thats soon to **** me
it's visible in my blank ****** expression
nothing is going to cure me
no one with a title, forget your medical profession
I believe its passed down genetically, chronological succession
but I don’t have my elders' strength, I’m choosing secession
leaving this place
but don’t call it regression,
because I own sole possession
of the knowledge that this life never gets better,
now do you understand? reading comprehension?
I became a master at hiding these feelings, skillful repression
and no I was never happy, there's my confession
how's that for a first impression?
in a world filled with prejudicial oppression and money hungry obsession
we’re G-d's material possession
unfortunately all the others will look on, intentional indiscretion
so yes, blame yourself, and discuss all the things you could've changed at my funeral *procession

a hollowed wind rustles paper scraps
blowing ideas along beaten dirt paths
swaying words in vacant coves
moving ink across charcoal roads
syllables blossom over flowering hills
until they finally land on a note next to a bottle of pills
on a deep oak bedside stand
where you can find sleeping remedies clasped in a jittering left hand

and as he fall into darkness to meet his creator
the poet's process is recycled and will be passed along yet again
for his words will travel until they find another suitor
and as a hollow wind picks up in the night
paper scraps are rustled...

I'm emotionless
Yet full of hate
But I don't really care
I'm heartless
Cause I've never known love
And it's not really fair
I'm expendable
Yet I have some value
Cause I lay my lies bare
I'm worthless, stupid
And I've never found the truth
If only I could remember where
Then my life may have some use

Until then...
I guess I deserve the abuse