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Literature

Maybe some day.

Maybe one day, Maybe some day, Maybe once in my lifetime.... Maybe I'll soar through the stars. Or take a rocketship to mars. Maybe I'll fly through the sky. Never asking why. Maybe I'll be some great writer! Or an m.m.a fighter! Maybe I'll see, one day, the things I could be. Maybe I'll sing a sweet sweet tune, Maybe I'll rock on a guitar until june. Maybe I'll be a poet! And this time not blow it. Maybe one day they'll see, the value in me. Maybe I'll make, something for once, for goodness sake. Maybe I'll drive a good old race car, Being a nascar superstar. Maybe I'll own a good old fashioned bar. But let me tell you of a story not on par. I'll never get that far. There's always some chain, always some block, behind these bars my dreams lock. Maybe some day, I always say. But the day never comes, because it's never today. So play the tune of life's dismay, and walk yourself into this chaotic fray. The dreams you see, do not stay. They always go away. And my thoughts lead me astray. Stardom, fame, recognition, that's not the way. So march to the drums of attrition. Hear the song of this self imposed limit attribution. Breaking your mind, what's next, a mental institution? Come read the loser's constitution. See the sad poser, The bloody hoser, The self doubt composer. Come see the stains, Come see the rains, Come see the lack of reins. Come see the confusion, Come see this emotional contusion, Happiness exclusion. Let a small violin play its symphony, come hear depression's epiphany. I'm not who I used to be. I'll never make it to thirty. I'm not a better me. Ain't no bourgeoisie. Somebody? I'll never be.