• I don't mine the sound of plastic breaking,
    or the distant drone of a babies cry,
    keys pounding away at some computer down the row,
    it's all life,
    and I don't mind life,
    after all breakfast is the most important meal of the day,
    and we all like to eat,
    just ask the statistics,
    there's one for everything,
    and no matter how much you try,
    you're always on one side or the other,
    there are no cracks to slip through there,
    and I don't mind that every other person out there who's taken a high school writing class calls them self a poet,
    and slamming is my goal in this art,
    to stand in front of a crowd and belt out my words like a speech to angry mob,
    sick of the sounds of life,
    sick of the way they have to live their lives,
    but do they understand the words that are coming out of my fingertips?
    Their cheers bring me nothing,
    just another empty room,
    my thoughts and I,
    and I've done a good job again,
    such a GOOD job,
    but it could have been better,
    should have done better,
    paid more attention in school,
    should have gone to college,
    could have been a doctor,
    but that's not what I want to do in life,
    and this is my life,
    this is life?