next stop, please

it’s int-er-est-ing
isn’t it,
this game of memory?
I’ve flipped the cards a hundred times
and yet I cannot see
the matching emblems hiding on reverse
foreboding all the treachery of paths that I traverse
you’d think I’d have the fluency,
you’d think I’d have it down
you’d think that I’d grown wary filling shoes of this old clown
ap-par-ent-ly, I am not
it’s evident, you see
that something beckons me to this
repeating melody
it’s sad, it’s cute, it’s sickening and sweet
never did I think my anthem
would hold tones of defeat
I juggle all the overload, demanding sensory
I move around the elements, I tweak the chemistry
due diligence holds precedence over my joy and pain
the masses strive for happiness, I listen with disdain
for in this life, if have you time, to seek for satisfaction
I have no words for you, we are not of the same faction
I’m waiting in a supper line to be fed my demise
The quiet hum of death will be my consolation prize
for churning out these days, as I secure my legacy
In hopes that my creator raise my bid and set me free
For I have done my job, I’ve created more than me
I’ve extended all the best of me into the century
But I am near worn out, I exist, superfluous
I’m standing, holding on, but I want off of this bus.