Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2019
Confrontational conversations, most rooted from observations, despite of the consolation, consolidation, for the route of my household, without it, the mouse scolds, now watch how my mouth folds, about those, goals I mold to see me bloom any sooner, the song I sung as a crooner brought doom resuming the rumours, boomers, bass this case, now lacing this pace that's placing escaping from our true making, now naming this as a nation, frustration, I had patience, but now I can't wait no longer, I'm somber just by that **** that I did, but do you ponder, wonder, how we rate hate by the circular cycle of fools, what rules did you choose, these clues told me you'd lose, abused, so blow your fuse, I'd like to hyphen this day cause my soul is writing the sight how we're fighting for rights we take, you wait, but there's no plate to serve, without supply, demanding for one to hand it to you, we're just a CRY-SHY.
Written by
Cyclone  22/M/Houston, TX
(22/M/Houston, TX)   
58
   Cyclone
Please log in to view and add comments on poems