Shit or Shitless

I cannot be here nor there
as if I am a chameleon busy changing colours
just to impresss or paralysed whoever comes
but my little fruit has dropped rotten in this garden.

I can no longer do anymore,exhausted
even when everything seems to be dying
as if I am just a praise singer
waiting for those to praise
when the building is crumbling to collapse despite all the noise.

I cannot possibly be dancing to their tune
if Only I could join the chorus line but Impossible
because I am a hustler of truth and nothing else
even when half the country is still sleeping.

I cannot even start thinking of tommorow
as if the "vulchers" will ever be tired of their own game
when the depend only on one thing
feeding and enjoying the sweat of others.

I dont even want to belive anymore
because our world is parasitic
we cannot deny
surely it is only the hero that will and can survive.