Superficial
comfort
enough space
convenience
stuff
That's all this shit is
it's stuff
Lovely to the eye
repulsive to the soul
Knocking into all these
Things
In my way
In my way
But you wanted me
They all cry
We could have been
Your freedom
They all plead
It's good backdrop
For the imaginary
For drunken mind movies
But really
None of it's
Real.
What is
real
Sideways glances
Bare feet
Raw soul
Shivers
Buried truth
Lovely mystery
Tragic injustice
And coincidence
Each worth more
Than any if this
Stuff/Shit.