I saw you’re sleeping on the pillow.
You’ve stolen it from trash.
You were drinking something yellow,
Because you’re low on cash.

There is no meal to be proud of,
But still you celebrate.
When everybody hates you,
You’re calling them “my mates”.

What if death was just an easy part
Of your lowest life.
And your best is ready now to come,
It almost has arrived.

You weren’t waiting for this summer,
And everything you’ve seen
Will never change they way of
You think, and your beliefs.

Your shelter is a cardboard –
These tiny walls around.
You live and you accept this
Without any sound.


Nobody still can reach you
In your own cave.
Nobody still can teach you –
Nothing to graduate.

Lowlife is your obsession,
As well as your mistake.
But I forgot to mention –
This is just a fake.


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