"Oh my job keeps getting easier
as time keeps slipping away
I can imitate the brightest light
and make your night look just like day
Well, I'm gaining power by the hour
they're falling by the score
you know it's getting very easy now
since no one believes in me anymore"*
and whispered, "World, I'm your man".
But none of it seemed to matter at all
on the day I made a plan.
I wanted to prove I can throw in
but then I just climbed back under it.
And the day I made a plan
in the end I never went through with it.
If I sent out invitations,
do you think you would attend?
Or would you save that grace
for the ends of other men?
You can call it making a plan
or consider it hatching a scheme.
Framework, stratagem, one way out.
Will you know then what I mean?
So what if I gave up today?
Would you choose to be around
when I come off like an atom bomb
all the way downtown?
Let me give you a scenario;
the last chronicle I'll spin.
Sometimes it's less frightening
to fight the whole world
than to stare down the man within.
I wanted it to be my day;
the day I made my stand.
But all of it seemed to disappear
the day I made a plan.
©John Edward Smith Jr.
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