More Def Poetry Jam!

Tell me, true, what’s life like on the 82nd floor?
When people walk in, are your clothes strewn all across the floor?
The room is likely empty, in spite of all your hate
A life of irrelevance was never in debate
The days are much longer, like the nights aren’t even there
Still remember the Autumn sun shining in her hair
Growing tired of the corporation, I cannot live to serve, though
I can live happily knowing we’ll all get what we deserve

I saw something peculiar in that frame, in that frame
I’ve never been the best with names, best with names
Treating sacrilegion as its own four letter word
Yet no one really truly understands

So, tell me true, why’s life so blue on the 82nd floor?
In a private holding cell, so glad to close the door
It’s a mystery to me, indeed, what’s needed to survive
A meaningless existence to some, though they’re still alive