Empty...

Reaching for the top from the bottoms up position. Selling time to the highest bidder n passing on life's intermissions. Same ol result of being broke is just never enough. Only thing to be shown for the loss of self is materials feeding the rush. Shallow in the makings of a better life friend out the experience to live. Having only periodical moments to be remembered as thought upon the lips. Dying while alive with nothing to look back on but work. For a chance at the end of it to ease back without the guarantee to enjoy the worth. To gain what is the purpose of happiness comes with a price. Sacrificing pieces of the now that go without a comfort other money's find. Caught up in a lifestyle of slavery rest becomes the downtime stealing even more. As breaths can only be heard in a sigh wondering why in the fuck it's all a bore. Empty days are a thrill of numbers on the rise. To spend after exchanging what cannot be relived for some sorta claim to be defined.