Thoughts on paper 2

Breaking into pieces by crashing into doubt,

consumed by inadequacies and thoughts of  perilous failure,

feelings of withered talents, 

Unable to please a nation, 

Words jumble one after another, shouting their mediocrity, obvious cliches, clinch me,

Burning with frustrations, enough heat to melt the gold chains on my neck and show their falseness.

A prey of self hate, fears that I'll never make it like the hands on E and I'm late for my interview, 

and without a good impression there will be no food to consume.

Only dreams to keep you moving, lets hope mt stomach fills off of my will to a legend.

Smithing these words, praying my forges flames don't extinguish before I see heaven, 

But on this road of good intentions fire doesn't seem to be an issue,

So lacking of paper I'm painting tissue and we're running out of that too,

At least until the sun attends on Friday for its weekly mission,

and after Bill and Ben have conducted their weekly meeting,

we'll see if Hamilton can feed us during the 2 week star and cloud transition.

I ain't vain but I am conscious of my desire for material things,

I got inner peace, that don't mean I wont flex with a Jesus piece, call it my golden fleece,

Such a lust for jewelry, concerned about my wants before my needs, probably why I'm stuck  in this trap for cheese.

Maybe I should just trap for cheese, but the truth is I ain't a G, don't mean I fear the game

but how can I bring change by being the same?

Some days all I want is money but money ain't everything.

Just need it for everything, such a conflict, the decision, to abort the mission of riches for richness,

who says they can't be one in the same?

Like peaches and cream or the ground and the trees, one helps the other be, makes the honey sweeter if you ask me.

Looking in the mirror wondering what am I lacking, 

Why can't I trust that taking this to any sponsor will lead to endorsements, like I found oil on my land,

I ain't been digging deep enough.

I keep moving like I'm in quick sand but I'm on dry land, delusional, with hallucinations, 

Call it a prophets vision cause I got faith that with all the test life keeps sending, I'll change my class placement.

Although I ain't looking forward to the taxes in that bracket. like beef with a neighborhood when you just moved.

I'll be more than the truth, I'll be proof, that my work makes me mythical,

Like pictures of unicorns and Pegasuses.

Faith in the unknown brings unknown results, and that's change. 

Besides is trusting in what you already know really believing or just confirmation?

Through it's own language, I'll reform a nation, doing the undocumented, to create more history, for a new generation to study to be greater.

So much trust in technological innovation make human potential obsolete, 

why add when a calculator can solve every problem with numbers I need,

Until you need to prove you understand numbers, but all you know is how to press buttons on a machine.

Lost indeed, a human race but no one's racing to be the best they can be.