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
