Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2015
Wide rolls, down the window, they're looking in
Away from the walls, lights off, **** i feel like i never win
But i have to realize, there's only 1 winner, the rest is his dinner
Pleasantly, things have foregone me from me reaching the desert
Am i the main course, or something sweet, (horrible) the dessert?
But i swerve right left,
Write from right to left til the words leave and i feel right
But not for anyone else, just me
Until the quill can only be written in blood for my will
In testament, i digest powers from the unknown
Where do they come from?
Spiritual in a Physical world
Mental in a Cultural world
Why do you all do that?
Descendents descend from the heavens and rise from hell
The ruse is over, we can break it all apart
No it's not a trap, everything can be turned around
This is no race way with a racecar going forever left
If that was right, i would have left this world a lot sooner
If that was true, blood will follow the heros and martyrs
If that was false, happiness would be the easiest thing to obtain
If that was left, then someone else will take it
Monotonous leaves me livid
And boom baps bang better because ******* love it
But why, we teach to love the intricate and shun the fundamentals
Uniqueness is slowly waning, more people popuate the world
They ask you, "how are you different?"
But I've been feeling the same
Since i was a little kid, since i had that big bib
Teeter totter on this stool, toes dangling off
Foreshadowing the rest of my body
But my shadow casts a bigger picture on the scene
Playing with the steering wheel on the highway
Letting go, and it going from left to right,
Ending up sideways
I do do it.
I need to cut it, out.
Life Isn't Black Jack
681
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems