Hell's Kitchen

where do we

fit?how can we

squeeze?is there more to it

or to the universe are

we just a



I often wonder how

often other people

pout on the pretty

faces and leave us with

drought though I can't

complain I use

just as much with 

twice the pain


things get hard to

read things run on and

on and I just don't 

believe this is my last

song It's all so

poetic so 

existential that we set these high

standards to not have



if every 

good student would think

less and play 

more then maybe we'd 

find less of  

them dead on the



the grade isn't worth

it they say to the 

cats but maybe the

grade isn't what makes us



work hard

eat right

don't speak

just listen


as soon as you know it you're back in hell's kitchen.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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