Critical Thinking

Barely passing through wind at 5 miles a hour

everythings is concrete, rigged and sour

Extreme weather under the beginning poets poem

clashing into the giant glaciers ice cold solstice

ironically it's hot as hell in the boat that I coast in

so it's either freeze or burn, no in between, no regularity

nothing familiar to conceptualize my integrity

all this opportunity to do what I want, when I want, how I want 

i can blast my r&b, walk around in the nude and not do anything

freely having this girl and that one come to my open field and play ball

or walk around and avoid opportunities that has my future involved

but the best thing about me being me is, I have never been one to stall

to keep from reaching that highest pedistal of them all and ringing that victory bell until I hear birds call

until i wreak of enjoyment and success,

until I breathe my last breath,

I will hustle and work, until the day I fall.