Segueway

i feel like i put something on to cook,
this computer is too slow,
for every seed is a pick,
a choice i made,
to cut us off,
why was there that excuse,
a phobia of destiny,
dislike of something to easy,
did that teacher just give me an A because he was dying,
if i could do it again,
i'd be there each day,
what's the wake matter,
when i ditched on his life,
am i awake,
if you question your dreams will be lucid,
too loud,
or just recorded that way,
can poetry be understood,
a thought is a life,
passed between minds,
evolving as it flies,
this zombeat word,
just hit my ear,
i heard it could,
be the taste of bold.