You are a thought terrorist.
I can't go on a walk
or lay in my own bed
or have a conversation
without you there. You have
hijacked my eyelids and
you linger in my mind
-its maddening! Maybe
with these words
I can cut you from my head
and trap you in paper.
You can not become
my background music or
the rhythm of my soul
-its MINE! Yet still, I think of you.
Why do I do this to myself?
If you are the terrorist I hope
I am not the plane going down.
he woke up at the rise of the sun
heard calls a KKK member feared to be apart of
he inspected his surroundings
made sure no terrorist came along to attack him
performed his morning ablution
simple movements allowing the water to purify his truth
looked up to the sky and heard boom, BOOM
Laila where's Laila , he ran back home searching for the innocent life he opens to
smokey roads smelling like phosphorous and American hate
says his prayer searches through blood baths
never looking back
the man who throw they attack throws his daughter in his face
says is this the terrorist you've been raising to be everyday
eyes filled with fire hating devil connecting lies
that's what they called him
after loosing the only love he had
his hate became symbolic
they lied to him and deceived him
made him believe this was all for his freedom
they treated him like an agent
although he deserved to be a victim
he was just a man who believed in nothing but his faith
he had a family he was once ok
now he walks down the streets where once his family played
and celebrated religious holidays
he searches for what he believes is his enemy
grabs the hand of his worst friend and says
please lets stop the violence
lets pretend as if this wasn't a plan to serve the elite class
please i am only a man i am in grieve
please lets love each other lets not bleed
smacked in the face
die you terrorist there's no peace between you and me
fuck you, terrorist
you are evil
you are hell spawn and you are a filthy coward
if you catch me you can behead me
but if i catch you first
i am going to tie you to a split rail fence and let the
feral hogs eat your testicles
while you scream in pain and beg for mercy
but no one will hear you
not even your allah
because the words of murderers fall on deaf ears
and garner no sympathy
no, you insignificant little punk
i do not fear you
it is you who should fear me
because i have no mercy for child murderers
and minions of evil
and i will laugh as you beg for your worthless life
as i prolong your torture for weeks.....
by keeping you alive
just to inflict further pain...
how ya like me now,
I'm poetic terrorist, I speak rhymes of madness in dark tone.
I'm commit poetic terrorism on the world with my poems.
The world going to burn with me on the top, Watching from my throne in Rome.
Madness is the tool and anarchy the agenda.
Let end world with a poetic verse.