______________ 鈻� 鈻� 鈻� 鈻� ______________
Don wanna hear this nymore,
Can't handle all dis pain being someone's fore . . ,
Killing my own self-respect for d nobel cause.
Tossed away always, disappointment leading me to pause,
Compromise accomplishing with d dreams,
No way r they d weeds ,
For they can b found.
Not in d clouds, nor elsewhere on d ground.
Suppressed in d membrane,
Neva gonna grow out, as a plant out of d grain;
Fr being uprooted & shattering all on d way,
Nor can they born, though d thoughts flow all the days following everyday.
Contending the self with d part played by my own,
Lending the helpful hands out, for the way i'm grown.
They b with. . ., for the
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