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Yield to reality
Yield form the downward spiral of fiction,
The mindsets of comfort.
From the soothing lies of misery and sleep.

You missed the bus
Yield to its signs
The change in your pocket is not opportunity
It is trouble

So you yield.

You’re on the bus
And you take her there, to reality.
To learn to dress down and drab up,
In this miserable, sad, polluted place.

You see the globe of spinning shit and you no longer feel dizzy,
Not from the drugs but from the, oh so natural high!
And now you’re walking on ultra violet rays of sunshine, ohhhhh!


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The following comments are for "yeild II"
by fcukedupboi

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