Too Desperate For My Blood

Coming up with this poem was difficult for me I even nodded off dreaming of Grandma Juanita’s cinnamon rolls Now I’ve returned to continue with pen How alive is this new venue I’m in Outside my bedroom Loot as a tool - Too desperate for my blood Foul eyes dismiss the true you within “When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on” Says the USA’s sixteenth president Many guys and their lies deceive with surprise and when we see it with our eyes a piece of us dies That’s if they’re close to us Wake up everybody! Why are you asleep? You shouldn’t be slumbering! So you’re not desperate or fraught, just anxious and distressed? Numerous phonetics but in spite of everything they’re synonymous When only using your eyes, you’ll assume that having what somebody else has will make you happy This is when you no longer trust in yourself, are desperate and are running on empty This turns our souls into rust In my survival I need not be reliant but dependent upon myself