Karma is not circular justice, being bipolar is not 0 & 1
The chemicals that fool me and rock my boat, also keep me afloat
The insecurity of being human, overpowered by the impatience of being a man-child
No respite from the heat, no breathers on this beat
Justice reserved in memory, the injustice of serving time
The damage done by people, undone by the kindness of kindred souls
In love with the idea of love, the power of poetry powers the pulsating heart
The value of words, underestimated by the uninitiated, for the effortless beauty of God's own creation
The last drag of life, been inhaling death, living a disowned and diseased existence
Investing in myself, I've blown up my creditworthiness
16 lines of my life, poured out from the centre of my being
The glitter of gold, pales in comparison to holding a hip
In search of meaning, I've found purpose
It is you; it is me; it is us
This poem is an animal, raw in its rendition
I'm a soft koala, hugging his tree, looking for that sweet spot to stick to
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