It’s a conundrum, and I can’t let go,
I’m here; I’m there; I’m everywhere?
Contained with no frame in times of space
Where I always feel out of place.
I’ve become accustomed to the doldrums
Made numb and dumb
To march to the beat of a drum
Being flung from above
void of love.
I’m done with the humdrum.
I’d like to be sprung
Even if it means I’m Flung
into new spaces of time.
Where I don’t have to run
troubled and lonesome
& Succumb to dumdums.
The vandalism, pessimism, now hummin’, rumblin’, bubblin’ to combustion
My lyricism evokes criticism because I sound like Dr. Seus.
Well, maybe I am the organism synced to,
capable of creating a cataclysm
The outcome: Strugglin’, Stumblin’, Mumblin’, Climbin’ to OPTIMISM?