My room is my world
I live in a spherical cube, A dark light, And open smallness
I sit on top of my forest, where I rest
I cant afford to keep the sea running
I struggle to get to the antartic, where he placed my food
Boys and girls go dating at the cinama
The enlightened extra terrerstrail
Stuffing there heads with propaganda
I glance out my window
And look at the stars waste their energy on sun's products
No care for our space
I look at the carpet
The goverment bacteria hires spiders
to cause riot, and use them as an excuse to close my poetry
My poetry
My pen
Is all I have
My worlds core is made of ink
Volcanoes express my pain
And burn out out my pain
But its time to take flight
I open my chest to the six nuclear bombs
And cause the second big bang

for I am everything, but nothing