Got Instrumentals for days - they help me write,
Getting souls ready - on route for the final fight.
I see signs and symbols - everything peculiar,
Don't spend much time reflecting in the mirror.
Remove yourself from the cobra's heavy clutch,
Life on this God forsaken Earth can be too much.
Prepared mentally - not much to do physically,
Achievements, awards - come forth heavenly.
Blasting off - not quite leaving this atmosphere,
No longer drinking alcohol - keep all that beer.
Ultra processed foods and additives send us to the coroner,
Droned out with the fluoride - toothpaste and tap water.
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Author:
Shaunmatthewcpoetry (
Offline) - Published: April 21st, 2026 01:00
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments2
Good write SM.
Here the author breaks out the atmosphere and it is more party than not. Nicely written
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