Oct 2015
People might think that this poem might be controversial, yet I think that this poem is universal.
It shows the true thoughts of me versus what you see, this is the true me.
People think I am a king ,that was born to have nice things, I'm not, I'm the same as you, I share your same views and hold the same value as you.
Everything that I have ,I worked for it, it didn't come to me in the break of heaven's dawn, no, I had to hunt it down and ****** it from the people that gave the ridicule that I used for fuel.
People always think that I'm a push over, I'm not, I'm actually beast that's in a cage built from rage placed conveniently on a stage.
I put on a show so that you guys will let me go, that plan was a huge failure, you keep pushing and pushing, what do you want, do you want me to blow and show you what its like to simultaneously explode while you implode?
I think this way because people treat me like a public enemy, when in reality, you are the enemy to me.
Why do I say this?
I say this because you all put me down as if I'm just a clown that moves around the town looking down as if he's drowning in his own sadness.
No, I'm not drowning in sadness, I'm drowning in madness.
Did you know that there's a reason why I don't share the thoughts that I have in my poetry?
It because you guys can't handle me and everything that you might see, so for your own protection, I hid my persona for your detection.
It had to undergo submission in my inner detention, all this because I thought you all weren't ready to go steady with my soul.
Well, sooner or later I had to say the truth and show my inner brute like Brutus did to Caesar.Of course I'm just full of hot air ,but does it look I care?
No, so just sit there and just stare, see if I care. I may sound like a hound growling and howling, but all I'm doing is screeching while teaching the subject of stereotypes, the editors might think that I'm not right, but who cares. This poem might be censored for all the scares that I leave in the air, tension is so thick that you can cut it with a knife, well isn't that nice?
All I wanted was to be left alone, but ever since I let one person read my literature they all want to be ensured that I wrote it and didn't copy it.
What an insult I feel like I'm going to revolt , so here it goes, quick as a lightning bolt.
I'm not normal nor formal, I'm a writer not a fighter, I spark emotions like a lighter sparks beautiful fires.
It must be my attire isn't, I dressed like I look tired, I'm not I'm actually hyperactive, proactive, and reactive.
What does Mr.straight have to say about that?
Mr.Vega might think that I'm bad, that was never the point of this poem.
The point of this poem was to show 'em that I can beat them at there own game and get the same fame that a normal sane person would receive.
At least I have half a brain to conceive these lyrical verses that challenge all of your beliefs.
I'm insane, that's half true, truth be told, I'm as solid as gold, yet I'm too cold to be sold to the general public.
Am I going to be subjected to rejection?
Well, if I am, then I'm prepared for the friction from people that think that I only write fiction.
If people can't stomach my rhymes, then they can't handle my mind, for my mind is full of them.
Sometimes I burst in flames, I have to put them out with your doubt, for with out it I would've been burned so long ago.
I'm getting to old for this,might as well end this.
I just created a wormhole that swallowed the world whole,I just stole the art of literature and I'm sure that these words roll of your tongue as if it were sung from the top of your lungs.
Remember this poem whenever you have so much anger that the military can store it, and hoard it in military aircraft hangars.
Anger is a gift that shoots swiftly and shows itself briefly
Use it with control, if you don't, it will consume you and destroy your views, don't be like me, be you.
Now, let me sit down on my throne, leave me alone.
Let me enjoy this fabricated city that I ,oh so carefully built out of appreciation
Please, let me have this one thing, or else I might perish from asphyxiation.
According to my calculations, this city rose from dilapidation and mutilation.
Hopefully, this piece of poetry will have caught your fascination for me.
Now this is truly the end of this rhapsody of my tyranny that revealed the true me.
It shows the true thoughts of me versus what you see, this is the true me.
People think I am a king ,that was born to have nice things, I'm not, I'm the same as you, I share your same views and hold the same value as you.
Everything that I have ,I worked for it, it didn't come to me in the break of heaven's dawn, no, I had to hunt it down and ****** it from the people that gave the ridicule that I used for fuel.
People always think that I'm a push over, I'm not, I'm actually beast that's in a cage built from rage placed conveniently on a stage.
I put on a show so that you guys will let me go, that plan was a huge failure, you keep pushing and pushing, what do you want, do you want me to blow and show you what its like to simultaneously explode while you implode?
I think this way because people treat me like a public enemy, when in reality, you are the enemy to me.
Why do I say this?
I say this because you all put me down as if I'm just a clown that moves around the town looking down as if he's drowning in his own sadness.
No, I'm not drowning in sadness, I'm drowning in madness.
Did you know that there's a reason why I don't share the thoughts that I have in my poetry?
It because you guys can't handle me and everything that you might see, so for your own protection, I hid my persona for your detection.
It had to undergo submission in my inner detention, all this because I thought you all weren't ready to go steady with my soul.
Well, sooner or later I had to say the truth and show my inner brute like Brutus did to Caesar.Of course I'm just full of hot air ,but does it look I care?
No, so just sit there and just stare, see if I care. I may sound like a hound growling and howling, but all I'm doing is screeching while teaching the subject of stereotypes, the editors might think that I'm not right, but who cares. This poem might be censored for all the scares that I leave in the air, tension is so thick that you can cut it with a knife, well isn't that nice?
All I wanted was to be left alone, but ever since I let one person read my literature they all want to be ensured that I wrote it and didn't copy it.
What an insult I feel like I'm going to revolt , so here it goes, quick as a lightning bolt.
I'm not normal nor formal, I'm a writer not a fighter, I spark emotions like a lighter sparks beautiful fires.
It must be my attire isn't, I dressed like I look tired, I'm not I'm actually hyperactive, proactive, and reactive.
What does Mr.straight have to say about that?
Mr.Vega might think that I'm bad, that was never the point of this poem.
The point of this poem was to show 'em that I can beat them at there own game and get the same fame that a normal sane person would receive.
At least I have half a brain to conceive these lyrical verses that challenge all of your beliefs.
I'm insane, that's half true, truth be told, I'm as solid as gold, yet I'm too cold to be sold to the general public.
Am I going to be subjected to rejection?
Well, if I am, then I'm prepared for the friction from people that think that I only write fiction.
If people can't stomach my rhymes, then they can't handle my mind, for my mind is full of them.
Sometimes I burst in flames, I have to put them out with your doubt, for with out it I would've been burned so long ago.
I'm getting to old for this,might as well end this.
I just created a wormhole that swallowed the world whole,I just stole the art of literature and I'm sure that these words roll of your tongue as if it were sung from the top of your lungs.
Remember this poem whenever you have so much anger that the military can store it, and hoard it in military aircraft hangars.
Anger is a gift that shoots swiftly and shows itself briefly
Use it with control, if you don't, it will consume you and destroy your views, don't be like me, be you.
Now, let me sit down on my throne, leave me alone.
Let me enjoy this fabricated city that I ,oh so carefully built out of appreciation
Please, let me have this one thing, or else I might perish from asphyxiation.
According to my calculations, this city rose from dilapidation and mutilation.
Hopefully, this piece of poetry will have caught your fascination for me.
Now this is truly the end of this rhapsody of my tyranny that revealed the true me.
