Haste killed creativity

The days blow by in agile moments of clarity and blind despair.
With rage so thick it's bittersweet to see a smile come through
Here and there. you put your faith in living, but youthful
Idealism is no longer welcome here. i'm not dead yet. hopes not
Dead yet. a hero's march down scorn filled halls defeats the
Charity of last years hell. your vain eyes show no respect, just
Loss of recognition broken spirit burnt out will. sing a song of
Cynicism a foul smell of shit decay and degradation in the midst
Of celebration. i'm not dead yet. hopes not dead yet.