Preached Words Poem by Moth Harris

The past is a practicle game.
With passive eyes and a new name
I move on and then I grow wise
Remove the titles and the lies

The thing is, there is no thing, there is no game
No rhyme that can remove the shame
We just grow up and move on
Grow up and get strong

So I preach the words that I don't live
I think it's the best gift I can give
'Be honest, Be strong
Be your best, don't do wrong'

A simple plan
to understand
Lifes not as simple
As a broken rhyme scheme