The obstetrix of physics
All I see are Hieroglyphics
A whole bunch of random ancient scribbles and relics
Always has a way of making me feel pathetic
Every encounter, I’d regret it
Can’t find the will to get it completed
The boredom always beats it
Can’t get these concepts concreted
Into my head
They come through one ear alive
And leave the other dead
Nothing ever works, don’t repeat it
Don’t know what’s left to be said
By Thiarry Bartholomew