Everything I say is wrong

it all comes back to bite me in the ass

the writers and the poets say it best

so I try to follow and not be crass

but I get pushed aside

maybe Dr. Suess was right

what did he say again?

"Don't go down without a fight."

No that's not it, he talked about green eggs and ham

I didn't say that

he did.

I lie awake at night thinking of all I've done wrong

if I can fix it the next day

or if all hope is lost and I should drop everything and go play ping pong

maybe life would be easier that way.

But easy isn't me

at least not who I used to be.

If I pile all of my worries and burn them to the ground, what would I have but ash and blood?

I guess I'd have a clear head but then what purpose would my conscious serve?

It would be out of a job

I've never fired someone, I don't think it's something my conscious would deserve.

If I rhyme is it a poem?

Or a jumble of words that match.

Whats the fun in that you may ask

well they have meaning 

that's what comes back to bite me in the ass.