Subject A.

life gets pretty tough,

we all know that,

yet life’s pretty good,

i’m sitting here listening to some shit from the 80s,

chillin’ out here in cali doing my work,

with the temperature somewhere in the 70s,

my brain thinks of a life i never had,

on the indopakistani border sometime in the 60s,

livin’ out my days underwhelmed by the degradation of society,

contemplating the existence of the previous sentence,

no,

stop,

it’s an illusion,

and i come back,

a new song starts to play,

a new feeling starts to course through,

a new phrase exits my mouth onto the paper,

a new idiot says some shit about my endless verbiage,

and i return,

back to chillin’ in cali,

early to bed and early to rise,

but i still can’t be strong, healthy, wealthy or wise,

sometimes the sayings i hear are lies,

holy shit i made a rhyme,

no point in making another,

god i could go on and on,

and on and on,

slowly losing my sanity,

other than capital letters and punctuation,

what is it that i lack?