He was,

Taboo.

His whole existence was,
Wrong,
Ominous,

Obscene.

Oh so Taboo in his walk, speech,
each
and every step was Meticulous
it was ridiculous  

He was,

EVERYTHING

Would you?
Would you report this poem if I made a connection?
With a foul mouth rough inspection.
Cause we all got that person we would ****'in connect with!
Then that person we would **** and connect with!
Then if they break the connection,
we take our fist or the nearest object to break their neck with.
****!
Curse words that's got so many uses.
You can say **** and mean so much.
To come out in anger or love once you got that passion.
What about when you get hurt?
***'ed out?
Then yuh like "dam I'm ******"
I just waned to let out a little, not trying to be belittled,
but I know there's someone out there to connect with

A poem without a feeling
When one is estrange from them self
A desire to want a want for desire
Convoluted and not yet acquired
It's not empty,
or missing.
A combination of both ?
The heart is there but absent.
The heart is a class,
but the feelings aren't there.

Self approval.
Self denial.
I can't seem to find the file that allows
self defile.
Innocent youth.
Corrupted age.
Read a book without a page.
Impossible.
What is a book without a page it's nonexistent.
Like the lack of confidence.
It's,
absent bliss on a kiss to the dis one kid says to the other,
like the abuse of, from the father to her brother and mother,
or,
hate that discriminates and makes race the way to keep pace.
We're nameless.

I'm writing a poem with an overly excessive name.
I'm overly excessive with my obsession.
Overly excessive with being different.
Overly-over all the situations partaking in the hyper irrigation of the words from my head to the  paper causing stimulation.
We all have that overly excessive stimulation fixation
we like to partake in.
Addiction is what makes the world go round.
Chasing violence, money, *** and who knows what else.
It's all greed.
We even chase greed. We just give it different need.
War, Currency, Women and who knows what else.
I'm writing a poem with an overly excessive name.
A poem with an overly excessive greed.
An overly excessive need.

I don't need fancy word play to say
that each day,
has some hurt and praise

As you read my poem and these stanzas as they stack
I want you to tell your self that...

I'm am of a different breed.
bred from a different egg, with an edge that's
smooth but cool like the breeze on a mountain edge

Tell your self that...

I am so spontaneous and explosive.
Not even my own notions knows this.

Tell your self that...

I am awesome, amazing, and advancing in me engagements.

Tell your self that.

Rip my heart out.
Let me die a ****** death drenched in the red juice.
That is the juice of life.
I don't need to be loved for a day,
I need to be  love for a life time!
I need a Goddess to submit to or a God to commit to.
So what do I do?
Submission is the only form of control.
I will submit to love.
I will submit to life.
Don't give me a day!
I will submit to strife

That person,
that person that just happen to be that person.
There's always that person.
That person you love and then that person you hate.
That person that takes,
that person that gives,that person you can't forgive,
that person you want to be and live.
There's that person that you share secrets with,
that person you would get it on with
and,
that person you don't get along with.
That person.
That person that brings that joy and spice.
That person that gives you life, that person that's dead
and
That person that won't get outta yah head.
That person,
that person that's you and that person you don't know.
There that person that can hurt you ,
That person that you'll let hurt you,
then,
that person that'll let you hurt them.
That person that's always happy , always sad, always angry and mad.
That's person that's cold or always lose control.
That person that's wise, that person that's a fool.
That person that's just another tool.
That person that's all these persons.
That person that's just another person or,
That person is you, that person is me.
That person that just happen to be that person