Thursday, August 15, 2019

Last night...

Maybe it's a lie,
Maybe it's perception,
I felt the friendship die
Back at the reception

You are not me,
I am not you,
Why can't we be,
two friends that stay true?

I like my grass,
You like your brew,
Calling my consumption abnormal,
I gotta give a big fuck you.

I think too much for my guaranteed sanity.
But my overthinking saves me from guaranteed blasphemy.
Whenever a favor from a friend is asked of me,
I become selfless before I serve my own tasks to beat

Drum that beat and strum that guitar
From that week and some from afar
The vast memories of tunes I hum, inspired in the car
Singing my beating heart out, I'm wired to be on par

Excellence is not on my forecast.

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