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It’s welling up, it’s closing in.
I’ve waited for the end since this all began.
Like the petal of a rose decomposing in the dirt.
my sanity has withered into nothing but hurt.

A distant memory that I’ve driven away,
how long will I last before I give up and say
"**** it I’m done. Today’s the day
that I’m done with this ****. I’m going away
and not coming back. My new home’s the grave.”
I can only imagine its coming up fast.
My world is collapsing, this isn’t going to last.

Maybe I’ll say my goodbyes and wish everyone well
and tell everybody I’ll see them in hell.
But that **** isn’t real, death is only the black.
A dreamless sleep from which you never come back.
I’ll open my arms and greet it with relief.
The blackness will welcome me, and I’ll finally know peace.
This was a freestyle that I wrote when I was in a rather dark place in my life. It's pretty cheesy but I suppose that is the nature of a poem when you just start typing what you're feeling. Everything comes out a little exaggerated.
Four ****** down washed away with beer.
I can no longer live a life lead by fear.
Constant stress of just being awake,
when all I ever wanted was to just get away.
To start my life over, but it’s not that easy
when the mask you once donned has sunk its teeth in.

The walls I built around me to keep myself safe
have become this new fortress from which I can’t escape.
The sigil of the heart I once wore on my sleeve
has long since faded into a jaded, new me.
How foolish I was to think I could go back
to the person I was before I donned the mask.

I’m afraid I’ll do something I regret.
Like go AWOL, or just end up dead.
I try to hold on but the memories are fleeting
now all that I hear is my subconscious screaming
piercing my thoughts, no hope for peace
now all that I seek is some form of release.
A light pole at 80, just another crash.
Or the squeeze of a trigger for my brain to catch.

I’m tired of not seeing a reason
to see this life through yet another season.
Everyone dies, that fact remains true.
you may be happy living
but I’m not you.
When she is
over joyed
by love-filled emotions,
her words delicately
dance upon the page,

When she is
brokenhearted,
disheartened,
and overwhelmed by darkness,
her words fall heavy
and splatter all over the stage.

When her wings
are raised in flight,
it is love,
singlehandedly,
lifting her up,
ever so gracefully,

When she is
spinning around,
out of control
with two left feet,
it is pain and anxiety
forsaking her--disappointingly.

Her poetic dances
are well known
for being freestyled,
erratic and spontaneous,

Be it a classical ballet,
or an explosive routine,
her artistic expression
is always crafted  
and delivered
with style and finesse.


By Lady R.F. (C)2017
PhiWrit Nov 2016
Haven't freestyled in a while
since my name was Kyle
1 out of 10 in the room I'd revile
but I got the world swoon over this goon style
9 out of 10 be jealous of the attention
I be getting how fast these legs run a mile
**** it give me 500 miles
and I would rush 500 more
just to kick in the door
Of whack rappers, hit the floor
That's the D-E-C-K I pray to start my day
not doing this for pay just to play and say
what I need to say the state of the States
Got me in dismay as they pave way
For old goose stepping ways
Like **** learn history
About ****** and his story
Of the rise to glory of the Fascist party
and the deaths of Jewish minorities
That they had as priority
Along with any other minority
that wasn't white skinned with ***** grin
or Aryan origin on that topic it's La Fin
because South Park had them Laughing
and sanding me in wood shop
So going to that school had to stop
so I dropped out by expulsion
which fueled the propulsion
Out of my mom's place
At sixteen I started to chase
independence
'Cause that's all that made sense
I couldn't live on cents had to make dollars
Dreamed of being a baller shot caller
Show poster on the wall sir
But my crafts had to be refined before
I could start my spiritual war
Let my mind soar like a kite
In the white clouds past nine
Turned the phaser to eleven
As shrooms shot me a glimpse of heaven started making bread sans leaven
sick of toaster leave-ins knead the flour
need the flower extra sour
though diesel to ease all the pain
And refrain my brain
From seizing and freezing
The mainframe of my nervous membrane
I swear I'm not insane
but it would take me days to explain
The pain that had me nearly slain
so ride my thought train
'Cause I hate planes & listen to the refrain
you feel this profane pyre burn hotter than
blue flames from the butane or propane
Not real champagne lest it be made in France mane
where they sniff the Caine more than oxygen
I am the Champion.
Aaron LaLux Jul 2016
Reality Rap

Got another flight to catch again,
I don’t want to go,
not ready to touch down,
not ready at all,

a cracka with an attitude,
apple sauce from Adam,
Deviled eggs eaten outta the Hand of God,
and Angel food cake served by Satan,

cake cake cake debate is hardly worth a retort,
the frosting is awesome I’ll even take it on the tort,
or **** Peter Park no Spiderman,
bitten by a scorpion on my right hand,

and these aren’t just rhymes,
they’re Reality Rap,
and if you like this,
well you’re gonna love that,

fact,

no Ratpack just some facts that,
wrap their words around tangible things that seem abstract.

It’s all math,
it adds up if you can add,

exactly to the 1’s with the 0’s,
like the Matrix I don’t wait take the best first,
I’m paranoid of all my hero’s,
while these villainous nerd birds peck at my net worth,

these villains are tools for the Machine that’s cursed,
these are all facts real rhymes freestyled never rehearsed,

they’re actual reality translated into the written word rhythmically,
I’m hearing voices in my head and their songs are sung so beautifully,

I love all of those ghost with moments of present nostalgia,
this is poetry we are poetry I couldn’t’ve done it with out ya,

I love you I love you,
I know you’ve heard it before,
no love is too much,
once that love is no more,

got another flight to catch,
and I’d really love to stay and explore,
all of our everything’s together for sure,
but away in this world on another world tour,

and on that note I gotta go,

got another flight to catch again,
I don’t want to go,
not ready to touch down,
not ready at all…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Volume 1
The H Trilogy
I just published a new book.
If you could take a moment to check it out,
and even write a review it'd be most appreciated.
All profits go to a charity that prevents ****** assault against children.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
Thank you SO much!

Here’s the link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01I4621OE
The Life...
Tashea Young Feb 2017
I freestyled a poem yesterday
Here it goes.

I am The universe and the universe is me
I am not of the natural I was birthed from the womb of the divinity
Descended from the realm of the heavenly
From The very Essence of me
I am as a seed in the ground full of soil producing massive amounts of engery
In my presences is where you can feel the warmth of my vibes and flowing waves of my frequency
My Hair, my mind, and my soul's density are the only things that defy the laws of gravity.
Outside in the sun is where nature and I become as 1.
Its my secret place of serenity
Where my peace last for infinity
A space where I am as A bird flying; I let go to be free
A place where I hold the key to unlock the door to my Authenticity
And like a deeply rooted tree I florish spiritually
Awakening my conscious and do away with the old mentality.
Dressing modestly wearing my Intelligence like its the new ****
And embracing my melaninted Shimmery skin in all its glory confidently.
That when I had come to face reality That I am the universe and the Universe is me.
There are 2 big eyes looking at back at me
they are deep and dark yet shine like the brightest stars in the galaxy.
This nose must be The scented flowers as it gives off the fragrances of me.
These soft luscious lips are speaking words to me Fervently
This heart is the producer of life working So powerfully
These mamory gland produces milk to quench the thirst of a baby
This body must be a living valley as my stretch marks are The road maps with a special route that leads to the deepest ocean of The sea.
My love is like honey with each gentle touch it heals thee.
Because I am universe and the universe is me.

— The End —