Impression
I look around and all I see
is greedy people chasing me
so selfish, uncaring.
How could we love another species,
if we can't love one another first?
We want things now,
but forget the process.
Patience isn't always the enemy.
I try to remember things happen for a reason;
but its tough when you're lying in feces.
Everybody's in a rush,
think they're going somewhere;
all their simply doing is going around in circles.
Paper has now become our everything,
can't live without it.
Wonder what the future holds
if we keep going.
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