with shining smiles
wake up and thank their God for another breath.
While I’m not exactly looking for death
I’m not going to be thankful for waking up to shit either.
Shit and chunky milk,
stale cereal that’s grown staler,
so you could excuse me for not being so thrilled
at having another crack at being a failure.
Maybe if one day, I could wake up as a stranger,
some big business tycoon
with a mistress with big titties
just so I wouldn’t have to wake up once feeling shitty
just happy to be,
and instead of looking at me,
I see some buff stranger in the mirror
with perfect teeth
content to jump in my Ferrari and speed off toward the horizon
toward some supermodel’s villa
so I can light up the bed she lies in.
Then go home to my picture perfect trophy wife,
just another dream,
just another day in the life
of someone who isn’t me,
I’m just waiting for the one day where I can wake up smiling
just because I’m happy to be.
Just waking up feeling like shit.