Look around us.

Look around you.

Notice anything different?

The sky isn’t the same blue.

People aren’t the people you knew.

But yet we still continue.

We still sit in a venue,

High off high class,

Drunk off demeaning spirits.

We’re all in competition for a mental illness,

Groupies to a new religion of materialism.

The American dream has become so unrealistic.

To our next life: PLEASE… be well-written.