Chapter 992

It's Sort Of Sweet

There are the common
There are the elite
Isn't the real difference
Just some form of convoluted conceit

Maybe the crowd
Just likes to bleat
It's more than likely
They don't like the heat

Nobody likes to have
Upon their neck a cleat
When the competition
Is hard to confront and beat

Time doesn't always add
It actually seems to deplete
What in life is actually
Written in stone or concrete

To overcome the enemy
Leaving them in defeat
That's the taste of victory
It's sort of sweet

Nobody