I heard that

I heard you the first time you petulant prick
but chose to ignore you and the sheer load of bullshit
escaping your mouth.
you're talking the talk but the walking falls short
and to lead by example means to put in the work,
the sweat and the time and above all
to forget about "mine" and start thinking "all",
"ours" or simply "the team".
to give you a hint: they're the ones solving stuff
while you're living the dream.
so spare me the drama and the fountain of crap,
spare me the sob story that's about to be spat
with the same mean mean world
and the poor puddy cat
who should have and could have everything in it's grasp
but waited for it to magically fall on it's lap.

towards the slaughterhouse

look! see?
a sea of cows
walking in sync towards the slaughterhouse.
dreaming green pastures and poppies bright red
they're all wanting something but that's not what they'll get.
they're all looking at it but not processing yet
and that temporary blindness will cost them their heads.
because dreaming and wanting are powerful tools
only when not in the hands of the fools.
that's when they blind and they twist
and they shatter good sense
turning friends into foes
starting tense conversations that don't always end well
changing moods, calling blackness that will never dispel.
it's a spell or a curse or a mixture of both
but the warning remains
like a dent on a thought.

so dream 'cause we need dreamers to reinvent life,
to make it more daring
but don't throw caution aside:
getting yourself way in over your head
might cause you, quite fast, to lose it instead...

It's not goodbye, just... farewell

I bid you warm farewell my very fucked up friend
we'll meet again in hell or better yet: not ever.
'cause hell implies forever
and that's a strong commitment I don't intend to take
for your and my own sake.

Farewell to all you friends
that just don't comprehend and ever fail to see
that I don't have the time, much less the energy
to always bathe in drama as fun as it may be.
Might work for firsts and seconds
but when the hundredth time comes and you say this
"my life, my choice, just mine, just me, just take it as it is"
try and consider this:
It might not work.
It might just be the mood, perhaps the outside wheather,
the ever so annoying tick tock of the clock
or might just be the fact that every time you say it
it's an excuse to act,
to say whatever and never owning up.

I don't intend to preach 'bout life and all that's fair
but I can see this
slowly and surely getting there 
so I'll conclude as such:
"we are all past the age of playing truth or dare
or using poor excuses like - in love and war all's fair".