The good luck is not good enough;
The bad luck can’t get worse,
The me’s what I’m beginning to hate,
This me’s quite absurd
The world’s strangely united when;
The whole world thinks I’m wrong
It curbs the rising fire within,
At me when it storms
I take it head on;
No doubt I’ll stand my ground,
But the ground shakes and breaks,
I’m not so strong after all.
The depths I begin to explore, an endless search in abyss,
The clouds of doubt and guilt make me feel amiss
Nobody understands,
is what I told myself
The one that broke all threads of trust,
Is the one I don’t deserve.
The one I’m talking about,
Is the one I know best
Or rather thought I did,
This one’s myself.
How can I plan or trust,
Or work or understand,
Which words can I use,
When I don’t know what I can
Steady this won’t be easy, this will take a while
With a little practice at the game, taking out more time
My brain will be trained; I can then spit my flow,
This hand will obey the master, excellence it will show
Then he rose, the poor boy, who got told off by the world,
He found his swagger, flamboyance, by all he’s adored
