The answer is really simple; the game of life gets boring. You get your gold coins, get the princess and are made in your idea of famous. But when you have it all you have nothing else to look for but losing it all so why play any longer when you can just shut the game off?
It's reason as sick as the prick that tores you off, as haunting as the flaunting female that looks the other way. And i know what i've said will be turned into a shooting but i'm as sane as your left hand in bed.
Kindle the once so warm the once so kind flame becuase it's time to go home and my sleep will be your dieing wish becuase i've become so cold and sick of the way i sleep and eat meat like i killed everything i wanted to die.
place commas where you will and mistake my words for ones you think you once understand becuase in my world the answer is really simple. why say what you feel when it's already been cut down to please another. I ask you this not as a question but as a statment becuase you never seem to listen when i ask you.
If i walked a line would you tell me 'good' or just trail me into traffic. why did i even ask becuase the awnser is a essay without spaces and your just a card deck with only aces. and yet anytime i play with you i still lose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem