They think, that I'm like
a disowned feline...
Throwing me out first floor
windows..
Do I land on my feet...…
No I land on my ribs,
on my head, only scrapes..
But my ribs are broken like
a chess board... one wrong move
and its check mate..
I'm dying where I lie...
choking on the blood of my
******* world moves...
But I landed on my wrist...
They'll never catch my broken *******,
broken slang.
But they knew what a hand held with another
meant..
a mangled ******* as I survived another day.
I came back like a bee looking to sting,
but the ones who fell out there nest
were stung by another not me..
I'll walk another day.. been stung a few times..
but I learnt my lesson...
Don't mess with the nest unless you
want to be in anaphylactic shock of
some random fools words
trying to prove,
some insecurity for an abandoned
father figure, that's compensated
by a bullet,
and a promise of we got your back.
