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Ransom'sTake01 Oct 2016
Yes I am upset,
how could I not.
You say you can see the pain, but right now it's all that I've got.
If there's a cure for this sickness of anger in me,
it's either a secret right here or found only if I leave.
And don't act like something new hasn't turned hot every chance I get to breathe.
I am not stupid, but all I can say for you is assuming hopefully.
If I was done with this by choice I wouldn't be dealing with this now.
And every time I re-explain it's all, "Oh jeez, wow".
Maybe all I need is a hug instead of someone to understand.
If God doesn't put on our plate anything we cannot take
then, ****, I must be some one helluva man.
If I were done with this **** there wouldn't have been this toilet I've clogged.
And if people heard me more often and all the poems I've blogged
maybe this has all been a pointless idea, something just stupid.
But I guess it'd be okay if it was cause by now I'm used to it.
I have done this for me and not nobody else,
the only one who I know for certain gets this is myself.
I have a way with words and
just like food some people scrap to get it in the streets without love.
it points right back at me.
Though if it goes somewhere else it's a point I don't see.
And that'd be because I'm blinded by my own loneliness,
yes I can own up to that, a closed book, masked with phoniness.
And I know I'm not the only one, and right now's to work on myself,
I've longed learned the lesson not to fix on somebody else.
Foolishness it is, and a fool I've been,
and stereotyped that is to be a defined American.
Bigotry's not in my nature, I try to be understanding.
Cause I've always been somewhere similar,
 and my empathy's pretty demanding.
So it's easy to feel your **** and how you can bleed
whenever you're considered "friend in need".
Again I digress cause I'm thinking so tiredly,
sleep is my slave master and at the same time a courtesy.
Something we need and something we never get enough of,
just like the food some have scrapped for in the streets with no love.

— The End —