Folklore

Chick, bye bye. Click, Hi, High.
Now I’m here and never again will I play myself to win.
I expect nothing and I Am boring, unless you break the walls I’m wearing.
Hands of steel, cast your reel and pull this awesome freak.
Am I geek? What’s that you speak? Do I hear a foreign tongue?
As I lunge into your world, I’ll leave you balled and curled.
This is my sight, this is my vision, or is it a dream I have at night?
I wonder why you stick it out and I wonder why you shout.
I have talent and I have wit, if I was a catcher I sure would wear a mit.
So I here I Am, a loser in bed, wishing I could hate myself to shoot myself dead.
But since I don’t, I guess I won’t, but that’s not all I dread.
I Am poor, my old life was crap so I closed that awful door.
I have Faith and soon will change, this now written is Folklore.