A clear blue sky in the focus of my one good eye.
The left one, the bad one; the blazing sun did it fry.
I'm not looking for a new satisfaction,
I'm just looking for a different kind of reaction.
A little thing called life draws a fine line,
Between night time
And your last rhyme
Before you breathe your last breath and you flatline.
A missing skill. A broken will.
Another day.
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