Be Cool

I’m not cool and I don’t care
which makes me cooler than you fools
who drool and make pools for the
people who ruled the schools, and
the true thing is that because I am seen,
people know me, that makes me one
of those who gets used to prove that
the only the people who are cool
make their own rules,
sing their own tune, dance in a
room like no ones around, but they are
and now the rooms on charge,
like “Yahh”. Its crazy.

I could be lazy let nothing phase me
and they pay me.
I could be ugly with lots of money
now they love me.
I could be sickly and looking iffy
and they’d pick me.
Easy to be demeaning ‘cause
they’d never catch the meaning,
Too busy daydreaming of how cool
they could be-

Looking for fame through names
and not limited to labels, like
the branders of the cattle,
like Borden for the cheese.
Searching for validation like cheap parking
payments means you’re stuck on the inside,
tryin’ to get out using me.
If you knew me you’d see I’m an image in the desert,
a mirage in the heat, an oasis for your safety-
I’m asthmatic, spastic, can’t see without my glasses
and even with these faults my name makes me fantastic-

the common sense is confidence, if
your container contains this then
image doesn’t need maintenance, be
happy being who you view ‘cause your
eyes are all that matters, cant lend them out
or borrow others, fuck what theirs can see, or
can’t sea like an ocean wanting to be lessened
or a river to a stream,
just be bigger and flow, and move, and go and
know that nobody can do you like you, be cool.