A morning wake,
watching those eyes, takes
me away
a journey, land of fantasy
like a hallucination of dreams
in reality;
"a young kid walking by
crossed and fold, with no reply
as compliments hits him
angered by successive luck
as friends are vultures in disguise"
"Suits and goals
flatted on him like hereditary
stocks,
lazying his homeland without struggle
as values are lost in ducks
were ships of load without care."
What a wasted life
as excess has no
value.
