“Tired Eyes”
Spitting lines,
Friday Orange line.
Don’t give a fetty farthing of a fuck,
that you past your prime.
Born of a history,
Not the fault of your misery.
I don’t owe you.
So step off my face.
You ain’t getting shit.
We both born of misery.
I just never learned to dwell there.
Your resume,
bullet points of pity.
You ain’t nothing but a collective rage,
Expecting a payday.
Diffident gods and fate,
Absent.
Wheels in motion,
Tear- filled ocean.
No fucks left to give.
