Poems about Health

Mornings are my whittle time, time for me to fall apart, time for me to start anew.  
Lebiazine is me, it helps me to be free, And though it helps a lot, friends are still something to be sought.
You are an insufferable little rat, you make me sick as possible, the waste you are can not be compared,  
“What is numbness?” The successful hard-working business man inquires.   “Tell me what sadness is.”
Shyness is a tricky thing, it's pleasant not to show your bling, but how does one stay afloat
The Warden keeps me in my place. I know he is mad by his face. His hands are strong, and make days long,
I am on the prowl now, a hunter in the night, I am moving swiftly, a soldier of the flight.  
I looked out the window and what did I see? A distant world and a reflection of me.  
I am a product of my society. The things I do an say are not unique, they are just repetitions of the world
Built your way on up just to get smacked down...x4 (This story is about a man who put his dreams before ANYTHING)