Trust Me

Oh, what f*****g luck...

The self improvement 

Makes another round.

The feeling of tomorrow, 

Today I wished I'd found.

Myself, I'm not struck

By the overwhelming feeling 

Of good timing and good luck.

But give me an hour and I'll be right as rain;

For I reject the pain

And swallow like vomit the prospect of doing this again.

Give me a day and I'll find a way

To say that I'm a cheat

And that I demand a clause for the laws 

I've worked so hard to flaw.

Give me a year and I'm here:

Once again dreaming of a life of then and now;

But how?

I'm so lost,

That I took the time

To purify the crime.

And here am I

Living a lie.

One which I told in honesty;

A truth accepted only by mad men,

A lost art perfected by sad men.