A prefect place.
Oh, how I wish.
To have a perfect world.
A perfect world to relish.

But since when is life like that?
All sunshine and daises.
Well, it’s not.
That’s just a fact.

To smile would be wonderful.
But circumstances are wrong.
For life to low like music notes.
Like a rhythmic song.

But, no. It must be this way.
The way of the bad.
Doesn’t life tick you off?
Doesn’t life make you mad?

Well, it does the world,
and it does it to me.
I’m pretty ticked off.
Can’t you see?

Well, I am fighting,
and I have fought.
To find the “perfect world.”
But it’s utopia not.