On a plate

Jammed, all and everything stuck in a rut
(the) window of opportunity shut

Go, while you still have the will to do –
Go pour your goo on someone new

Now your mind is doing time in its own prison
Feeding on itself ignoring sense and intuition:
A vile, bitter dish, topped with hate served on a plate

Whoever said it was easy out there?

Vile and deceitful you’re wearing your crown
It will just weigh your moth-ridden conciense
Down! Down! Down! Down! Down! Down! Down!