Life

Cold and wet with bright  light all around,

Unconfortable and confused among all this sound,

Wake up early for the first day of school,

Must be there by eight that is the  rule,

Try to find ones self with-in all these clicks,

Not poor, rich, nor with the people with weird ticks,

More school to decide who to be,

Must make lots of money they all tell me,

Punch the clock every morning now,

Life is all about making money some how,

Grey with all my youth fled,

Sure that soon I will join the dead,

Confused and unconfortable in this foreigh bed,

Finally, close my eyes for the last time into the back into my head,