Depression Zoan

What’s the point of living
What’s the point of giving
Back
When you consider the fact
That
It’s just ammunition for the opposers
Hating and fibbing
What’s the point of existing
What’s the point of being uplifting
When the world is doomed
And they don’t see the bigger picture
Maybe I should be more grateful
For my knowledge of the scriptures

Spit dope bars
But what if I’m meant for a friendship
With someone that’s deaf
Could cop more cars
But that would mean losing
An awesome socialist’s respect
In retrospect
I lived up
But it’s tough
When there’s still some
That think your authenticity
Is a cunning little bluff
To move with love
But somehow
Finding yourself
Leaving others in the dust
I know what I trust
But I don’t know if it’s enough
In a world that needs a hero
In a world that admires you
When they see the commas and the zeros
Could knock free throws
But that means getting fouled
And you know how the Bad Boys
Did to Jordan
So I’m conflicted
Of being either a junkyard dog
Or to move in proper accordance
I know I’m gifted
But the Lion prowls