He's always been a clever boy,
Along with strength and time,
Time to dream the whole day through,
And waste his chance to shine.
No drive ambtion or a goal,
Enter his mind or bed,
Just booze and sex are all that seem,
To occupy his head.
No dreams of more or thoughts that Lure!
Fustrating is this strife,
Of knowing someone with potential,
Who wastes his dreary life.
What can be done in this sad strife?
To help him gain some passion,
All a friend can do is hope,
He'll gain it in quick fashion,
And I'll be here during this time,
To offer sound advice,
To guide him to the right path,
Without always being nice,
He needs no luck to guide him,
As friends shall see him through,
And then he'll know his self respect,
Is what makes him just and true.
And I have faith he'll find something,
Which moves him to his core,
Passion and rapture shall engulf him,
And he'll always aim for more.
His effort and his drive shall be,
A point of admiration,
And by himself he will succeed,
With sheer determination,
Cocky, arogant as he is,
though thisme with conviction,
A substance he himself has earned,
Which is beyond description,
And then he'll realise one day,
And then he'll see the light,
And finally he'll understand,
That I am always right. |
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