Bad Burger

Such was what I thought I knew
That there was nothing I could do
To make a lie seem somewhat true
And there was nothing I could say
To make their blather repartee
Resulting in a rash of rue

For such was their bizarre belief
That all their guilty pangs of grief
Were caused by some Caucasian thief
When whether we succeed or not
Has more to do with taking a shot
Than bellowing some tainted beef.

Rimmed

I’m not sure what I was expecting
but I know this isn’t it
where nonstop neglecting
perpetuates the shit

the course to take is action
I can feel it in my gut
while struggling for traction
to rectify this rut.

Mettleurgy

Forge is the root of forget
(it's best to beat back your regret)
and be is the base of belief
(you've got to have faith to fight grief)
remember that nothing is set
so make things your way (life is brief).