Poetry/Music

Deadline

First Verse:

Within life, I retaliate to the guidelines that dictate with a checkmate that is hard to debate.
When spitting out these rhymes, my ego won't inflate, so don't be worrying when I'm getting to the hitting of every note without unremitting.
But either way, I am keeping my eyes from being closed because I got a bit of problems that I can't seem to dispose, but I use to compose my work before it is just disposed.
Just like any bag of tricks used in politics, when it sticks out, it will receive six kicks till it gives in to cover it with brick.
It's not like it isn't important stuff, this is just a way I vent when life is not content when only giving out torment.
You could say this is Plan A, and I am too lazy for a Plan B, but if I put in the truth that is the proof to the life I am living, then it can't fail.
But these days I been feeling like I am suffocating from the frustrating process when creating the words that I wish to convey today while wondering in the grey after following the path of dismay.
Either way, there is a fine line before the deadline filled with disappointment that feels like some brine on the wounds with a need to close it up with twine.
I mean, I love writing how my sighting is to be, but I am tired of fighting time while life is unexciting and some make believe world that I made in my head is rather inviting.

Chorus:

I know I said many things over the years that turned to tears.
I been going off of nothing, just hoping I get creative right before the next sedative.
My nerves are killing me in the end, the time restraints, and life itself.
You could say I woke up one morning in mourning with zero warning.
Either way, I know life is the essence of time, so chime right in soon as that dime drop.
Because these deadlines are killing, stealing what is precious in this game that is taxing and billing.
Doesn't matter if you are in the rain, if you are in extreme pain, your sanity will be wasted in vain.
There's nothing to gain, so just shrivel up.

Second Verse:

Look up high to the sky, you're simply not ready to die, but work dictates otherwise.
Working for whom you despise, open your eyes damn it, everyone dies.
People are wasting away anyway, they got lost within the cubicles within the company that is based around pharmaceuticals instead of following your dream.
Yeah, your dream is already dead and buried, replaced by a life of a nightmare that is meant for high financials, but what the hell does that matter unless when you're miserable.
That is pivotal and critical, hate to be cynical, but that doesn't make sense since you get that money to fuel the dream.
Sure, waste life away and create a dysfunctional family, aren't you so manly.
Mainly, our point in life is to live, but we can't live with nothing to live for!
We got a deadline, you're either alone or suffering with another, that is your design to be like a australopithecine on an assembly line.
That way of living is unavoidable, but it sure is an atrocity with no generosity in policy.