Monday, November 30, 2009
Seems like you're in it for all the wrong reasons.
We heard all about it. Good for you.
I've seen the pictures of you with all of them.
Dear god, I've even read your horrendous work.
I always ask myself how is it that anyone can buy your bullshit. A faceless name in another fucking book.
Then I know that it's all about who you know.
With the clock watchers and swaying trucks, i'm down here.
Waiting on line inside my miserable monotonous shell.
A green eyed monster dressed in confused anger.
Looking up in the hopes of seeing your grand fall.
Passing each story finally makes some sense.
Praying for that latest disappearence.
It was never enough for me, or maybe it was too much.
The drilling keeps me from spelunking passed what was.
If it were only easy to forget my greatest fear.
Out like rubbish. Down to cold twisted reality.
When I jumped none of it mattered to anyone.
You're so high up there. Ever so mighty.
Needing all the premeditated attention and attitude.
Audacity should never be confused with courageousness.
When you finally leave your tower it should be through glass.