the struggles

To struggle against what you cannot win is likely to give you an early fin your den is yours and should not easily be ascessed by a hen to much pressure so many in our pen to be left in the cold to prize to much gold the black of the manner leaves our skin a little tanner the world in which we live has so much room for give a dark place of upbeat pace to much fight with almost no bite respect is need in droves to those who came back to no clothes a dismal fate for those on whom we said we would wait but instead our souls are bait to a system who makes you bleed at the gate the blessed desire of those in the fire and the drive for the ones alive are to stray there path for lack of faith in math

(Its kind of confusing)