Sometimes studying stupid subjects can subject me to certain stuff I'd never expect. Seeing stuff happen before sundown or sunrise suddenly sets a fire so bright I must set forward on my suspicion. Science, sociology, scents and sounds all seem like a wonderful thing. Sometimes not. Satan himself sought the suffice. Sometimes things seem so satisfactory that your soul stakes its survival. 

Sleeping on my full bed,

forgot ass full of shit.

Damn! That fan took some hit.

Mouth closed and tongue bit

faced with my own brown grit.

Another poop warhead.

What is strength,

but the will to survive.

To perish and fight,

or to hunger and thrive. 

We all have looks and ways we do.

Always different but similar to you. 

Inside us, is all we need.

To look and see.

To be and feed.

It takes 4 to see a number 7.

A mom and dad with two little heavens. 

They told me once, a holy number.

Maybe a joke for the slumber.

To keep it even we need to double.

Any more and we're in trouble. 

I could have sworn I had your permission. To set you as my goal and mission. I wasted my time it seems of course, but for some odd reason you set my course. I know that we'll never be and I doubt you'll know what you meant to me. But another reminder that if I look I'd find her. I got stuck on you but you didn't care, so now I watch, oh how I dare.