Tearing my skin,
questioning my worth, and letting all of the enemies seep in.
Fighting my thoughts, fighting my cause; so angry at the Lord,
and counting all of my flaws.

Trying to be myself,
but failing to really get enough in a day. Telling myself to pray,
but there’s a deep hate inside of my heart.
Wondering if it’s okay to play a role that’s not even my part.

Beneath all the writings I have,
a dollar a word; how much would I have earned? Are all these
struggles a part of the many things I deserve?
Itching at a nerve, doing the most work I perceive, but
the surrounding eyes don’t really believe.  (Believe in me)

In every shadow,
I’m an echo of those pains, thoughts of, “does the Lord really
save, or picks His children in Heaven’s book of few chosen names?
Soul selling, death bounding, riches of the worthless all going to Hell.
It’s the smell of earthy pleasures. If I wanted them all, what would
be it’s cost and measures?

Momma's boy, daddy’s disappointment,
all ships ahoy, attracting the attention of those now unemployed.
Let’s flip a coin, and bet your fortunes on two sides of luck. Don’t
start selling yourself short now, you’ll just be playing a constant
game of catch up.

Aren’t you fed up,
fully fooled by food for thoughts you’ll never use up? What the ****,
I was supposed to be a twenty one independent. But the dreams of
that child, I low-key ****** them up. (Excuse my French)

Apologies to my youth,
the self abuse, the tragic roots, and the youthful experiences
I never had a use. Don’t grow up too fast, because you’ll never
fit in life’s big *** shoes.

What’s the use?