I'm tired of writing poetry,
but with this last piece of hope
i try to summarize everything
because ill be gone any day .
If everyone is learning who am i to feel different?
It cant be the ego for even he has folded his hand.
Its not even the memories.
Its the look i give and whats felt between us while things happen to others.
I guess that's life.
Whats a prison sentence when i live like this?
One king will one day read this and feel my love and state of mind.
We have a game to play, and one which will smile yet a smile isnt what we are after.
It is the greatest high.
It is my ego after-all.
To have known i was a man, a weak man
that couldn't deal with reality so he changed the world for the better, the perfect better.