Forever, till death
Obsolete squares that I’m made of
make me worthy of the good things in life’s carriage,
as a germinated seed inspired by poverty,
I proudly wear the thorns of my heritage
to find a meaning for life, to feel alive.
from now until I become older,
before I am dead; before I am forgotten,
I’ll attract every good thing that I can,
and as I try to continue to leave a mark,
dear Lord, watch over your sinner son.
if I ever pen an autobiography,
I’d let the world know I didn’t amount to much,
but I’m a man, and when I fail and fall,
I wear a cap of knowledge and knot a tie of belief
to prove my hypothesis until it makes me a winner.