Struggle is nourishment

the morning sun never felt so good, only in the eyes of who speak the truth can only see this view, sunrays orange like sunkist but the wind is a breeze of cool mist, walking on the concrete everglades, riding the bus that takes 30 minutes of my life away taking me to the institution that is molding my life today only to be in a class where students dont do what they say and never taking advantage of their life today, to the bus driver that drives his life away, to the drunk that drinks his life away, look in the eyes of the people who pass you by and you can tell if love is in their lives or if they love their lives the answer is in between their eyes, beneath their eyelids lies a lid sealed and confined, a coffin of the mind, a coffin of lies and past histories of stories you wouldn't want to see or hear, remember the eyes of a refined man or woman is clear, steady, unshackled, strapped like a belt buckle, ready to buckle down and receive punishment cos struggle is nourishment, and you will only know you are whole once you have been halved, and you will know when you've strayed when you follow the other path, jacking off but instead of your dick it's the devils hand, so please use my words for what they are the wordplay is for your ease the message is what i want you to see, we never know what is planned but when we look back, and this is a test, will you say everything till now was part of the plan, retrace your steps till today and ask yourself i you got the guts to say that this was suppose to be this way, i was suppose to be with you, i was suppose to live like this....