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I’m Doing Okay, How Are You
Naive as can be
Oblivious to the fact
That your down on your luck
That your second hand has struck
On the precise moment when you thought it could get no worse
Than this
Feverish pitch
If the nails scratch you
Concede them an itch, an inch
Latitude, room for error, forgiveness to a snitch
A rat, stabs you in the back, a fat black cat, crosses your path
Stupid is as stupid wants
As ridiculous as the taunts
Sticks and stones crack bones
And words hurt more over the phone
Face to face, my place, or yours, I have more room
To bone
If the mood should so strike you
I never thought I would like you
Let alone, let you, beg you, eat you, upset you
Share the blankets the winter air is thankless
Gullible
Trusting the imaginable
If it has red blood and fur, it must be a mammal
Yet you walk on all four legs and dare call yourself an animal
Enamored with your innocence, borderline ignorance
Competitive idiot
Moronic impediment
To fluency and sensible cognition
Acting out of principle regardless of the hazardous conditions
Solely relying on others for assistance is habitually consistent
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