yet the fugger in you; was an asshole at birth
and right about now, you recognize it.
You identify its failings, and you characterize its characteristics.
Stinks like shit I tell you; but you must do it.
Only to plan it out on paper; and write it on a book.
in hopes of changing, evolving, the bastard that’s’ plagued your existence.
And then you wait...
… For fuck knows what.
