Mad At The World

I'm mad at the world because it's keeping me down, no not the gravity there from spinning round and around. Things are constantly taking a turn for a shitty, why can't life be wonderful, why do I stay in this city?

I'm coming to the conclusion that the ones who got it good are also the same ones who did what ever they could. As I try to do the same my life gets more so inane, as further forward I push and I keep expecting the train to come and get me. Save my life, take me off of these tracks, and it won't because it can't, because it never looks back.

I seem to be the one here fallen off of my path, keep on wandering further, until I add up the math, at this point one and one don't seem to add up to two. So I speak with other wanderers encountered inside of this zoo, they tell me over and over that I'll eventually find what it is that I'm after if I keep on the grind.

Grind it up, like the beans going into the cup, percolated, then demonstrated. My perpetration is up, like the leaves in the wind, I be flying on a whim. Years ago before the fall I used to live on a limb.

Now like a stab in the dark, I'm just that kind of crass, a haphazardous approach to falling flat on my ass. Like a blanket that's wet, I'm feeling heavier than I should, like I said a moment ago I feel grounded below, if I could I'd be flying high, but I'm not, no I'm stuck in this rut, left to rot like I died on the spot, and I'm looking out, living out moments of time.

The sadness always leading me to a state of frustration is the fact that I can't seem to avoid all of this  constant confrontation with myself, inside my head, during this juggling act, the one I do where the things I'm tossing always end up coming back, biting me in the ass, taking me down the wrong roads.

Tricking my mind to make me think that I'm about to expose the next chapter in my life that will eventually lead to the close, to happily ever after that never seems to exist. So I wonder and ponder why is it me the world's dissed?

At this time now I would like to conclude, that the my time on this earth has left me feeling proverbially screwed. I want to stop this constant cycle that tears at my inner being, being as I'm suppose to be able to, what is it I'm not seeing? What is it that I have seemed to have forgotten? Is it someone, or is it something that with money can be boughten? Is it some kind of relic that if I had broughten with me on my travels, treasure would easily be gotten?

What I do know is I don't know, and I can't know or I won't, so therefore is it the world that I'm mad at, or a reflection of me that I see in the world that makes me disagree?