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It's hell I forgot all my
prayers and I'm sitting with beer
while some people eat
misery, I complain on a full stomach while
some people are hungry and have
nothing, it always looks pinker on the
neighbour but in the background, am I right?I
think not, I would like to feel useful
but I feel useless, I think I
am stupid, luckily in life, I like
writing poetry, it allows me to let
off steam, to dream and to spend my
days, who am I to complain? me
the poor madman, I would like to help
others but I have poverty with me the
poor apostle.
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