The Yellow Victory

Here I sit in the midst of the unknown

I’ve least problem what to write but know that I can manage, know that I can.

Where to write this epic poem is the very thing I am concern about

For it appears to be the world’s most vain question ever asked aside from how a warm beer goes flat, even Einstein wondered

And why did Obama’s black, I couldn’t care less.

I’m fastened on my seat and the addicting scent of Victory pad, I smell

More than the personal brand of heroin, right Edward?

My eyes were set to wander and occasionally have seen yellow papers

Calm down, I’m not lonely

In the abyss of somberness, I curse them. How dare all of them not give me a yellow piece?

I blink for five times now; the still atmosphere goes all over the place

Who will be? Who will have the courage to offer me the most important thing every planet must have?

Don’t loathe me little John, cool yourself down.

And for the record, somebody handed me the thing I have been longing to have

She saved my soul from being buried down the furnace

Somebody please, make me believe that I am writing now on my Yellow Victory for I know some waits a lifetime for such sheer dumb luck as this.