blehebe

My shoulders carry two tons of steel.
This shit's been welded and its hot but feels
could sweat that paces around on this back
And tries to figure out what this body does lack.
"Is it feelings, smarts or the ability to not be a jerk?
Maybe his body is just filled with dirt,
Cause if his actions had exchange rates that's what they'd be worth.
What's funny is, he's never been truley hurt,
but he writes on and on and goes and goes
thinking his words are caught in a flow.
They never make sense and he acts so needy
Take something from him and hell start to get greedy
Then there's hell to pay."
I'm sorry.
It's the sand paper
It's the silk
It's that spilled cup of milk.
It's the fly
It's the wall
It's the fact of getting crushed while you crawl.