"friended" poems
Hey Sweetheart remember me?
The girl you said you 'loved' for almost a century?
I see you take your "new" friends wherever you go.
Are you with them cause we broke up or is it for their hoes?
So you said we should be 'friends' and you're really sorry,
but what about these rumors you've been telling everybody?
I never left the boundaries of being faithful,
that was your dumb *** cause you're so ******* disdainful.
Now even though I'm ecstatic I kicked you to the curb,
we need to go over some things cause I'm pretty disturbed.
For one keep my name out of your mouth,
you must not understand baby I'm from the south.
I'm not scared to punk you in front of your friends,
if I hear another thing about me from you this will transcend.
Oh by the way I un-friended your ***** ***
You're a piece of **** and you've been outclassed.
I hope the next **** you **** carries stds,
that's exactly the kind of wake up call you need.
Thank God I dumped you when I did,
you were so ******* annoying since you act like a kid.
I hate you so much and I will never miss you again,
Lets not talk anymore and you can just have a ****** life then!
-Alicia Hubert
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 3:59 AM UTC
We friended on Facebook,
Scrolled down our profile pages.
Lived together in a virtual world.
Our images and websites we shared
With Instagram incisiveness.
Meet all my friends.
Block any you do not like.
All busy we are, doing nothing.
Like if you agree.
Laptops were not enough.
Users subscribed to Smartphones,
Iphones, and God knows what.
Google them if you wish.
And if you like my words
Retweet them.
But beware!
I now use words like lol,
And even ***
Hehe.
Sometimes I multitask,
Flicking TV channels
Like a Subbuteo striker –
Gone virtual by now I guess.
Flicking and flipping while I scroll
My laptop page.
I make new tabs
As I message many friends:
Emoticons exploding
All along the way.
I’m Tivo-boxing clever
All the time,
King of my domain.
So get your VDU lit up
And monitor my words.
Download my thoughts
Into your memory banks.
I hope this all computes.
Paul Butters
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 4:10 PM UTC
Your grandmother wants to be friends on Facebook.
hey you,
can’t recall where or how i know ya,
but your grannie is very kewl,
(we agree on the proper pronunciation)
boldly asked if that included “benefits,”
she heartily answered **** right”
“one man is pretty much as good as the next,
but younger is definitely better, and you a spring chickadee,
at age of sixty years and three,
so many years ahead to share,
your social security bene-fits,
making me swoon
and giving me ‘flashes ‘n fits’
and given your life expectancies,
spousal wud be nice,
even ain’t a necessity,
looking forward to pleasuring your company”
**remind me again,
where do I know you from?**
shoot.
HELLOOOOO POETRY!
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 4:35 PM UTC
I wove my own web and netted my prize,
I cold-pressed my words and refined my disguise.
I goggled at life and faced up to that book,
I tumbled and tweeted and baited my hook.
I blipped and I blogged, I bantered and blushed,
I followed and friended, I grovelled and gushed.
I doled out the instant, ten grams at a time,
To fuel my addiction for caffeine and rhyme.
I reshopped my pic, I swiped left, I swiped right,
I pinned and I posted deep into the night.
I gloated and gossiped, I chatted and cheered,
I logged in and logged out without favour or fear.
For is it not fun - this mad media storm?
Viewing and voting from dusk until dawn.
Yet love me or like me, let it never be said,
That despite how it seems, it’s gone to my head.
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
With Lackey and Heyward both turning blue
The Chicago Cubs scored a mighty big coup
Kind of a payback for Brock, comma Lou?
What, oh what are the Cardinals to do?
We’re pretty sad, say the fans dressed in red,
That both of those guys chose Chicago instead
But a person would have to be daft in the head
To give up the St. Louis Cardinals for dead.
Yes, the Cubbies think that they have enough
But the whole NL Central is pretty **** tough,
Which team do you think will have the right stuff?
To win in September, when winning gets rough?
2016 will be pretty fun.
There’s quite a Division race to be run
When game 162 is finished and done
We will see which team, the most games, has won.
Yes, next year the race will be closely contended
During the season you might have me un-friended
But in winter time, our rivalry suspended
We can cheer for the Bears till their season is ended.
Phil Lindsey 12/12/15
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 9:07 PM UTC
1:12:25 9:20am nyc
Exactly, how far is it to you?
this is more than mere question,
or a rhetorical poem title discard,
consider it an interrogatory of
the first order, a debate raging
with every word successfully
affixed from brain to fingertips,
from my breathing to your heart,
how far is it exactly, pray tell me,
how these cords of words find you,
are your lips bending up in a smile,
need me a weather report, air quality,
wind gusts vitals vital to yo! estimate
how fast & conditions they’ll require survive/arrive in your eyesight well
and be friended
feed me the data, Heart Rate, Blood Pressure,
SpO2, so I’ll know what condition your
condition is in, adjust my words accordingly,
send to this distance back to me awaiting,
the necessary facts & figures to provide the finger stroke directional, do you need whispers or emboldened bold face to arouse the a spirit flagging, a shoulder shaking, a dozen red lipped chords of
kisses and sweet everthings, that do not
dissolve, dissipate or disappear instantly,
but can be stored in a Ziploc bag, refrigerated,
ready for gorging and disgorging, repeatedly,
as needed, synchronized slow or hard, fast
or soft, wet or dry. sweet or salty, savory
or a blended mixture, an adjustable concoction depending
on distance, time of day,
tell me,
the stuff that you accept
with open willingness,
or just begrudgingly
all adjustable
all shaped to
your individuality
elastic flexible
but the schedule
filling up fast
so we can mutual
squeeze into each others
empire of empty
so,
***Exactly, how far is it to you,
to where you are being***?
Jan 12, 2025
Jan 12, 2025 at 2:48 PM UTC
I am haunted by iguanas
Crawling though the attics of my dreams
And lately my front teeth
Are growing some kind of orange fur
I worry that ring tailed lemurs
Have stolen my remote control
I'm ridiculed by spider monkeys
Holding my underwear for ransom
My faithful cat ignores my worries
Unless her dish is empty
Now ants seem vaguely threatening
And magpies watch me in the morning
Late at night, I wonder what advice
Kafka or maybe Aristotle could offer
But they've never friended me or twittered.
Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 2:46 AM UTC
Here is a tale of a dog and a cat
And a *** bellied pig, so pink and so fat
Of days in the garden alongside a farm
A whimsical story of magic and charm
The dog as he was of bushy descent
Yellow in color where ever he went
Digging a hole was his prime source of fun
As a matter of fact he had just finished one
The collar he wore was a leathery find
With studs made of silver so brightly it shined
His tail ever wagging, a happy old guy
He hung with is friends as the hours passed by
The cat on the other hand, sleek and so fine
A coat made of orange with stripes it combined
Cleaning a habit I see in all cats
But this one was special for it wore a hat
A tiny straw chapeau with fine feathered brim
A ribbon of pink that was wrapped round her chin
Though not really sure if a cat finds the style
But more as I looked I would bet that she smiled
And there to her left with a snort and a grunt
Was a portly built fellow the legs of a runt
Fine wispy hair that did cover the skin
With a gather of long ones that hung from his chin
Puffing along an attempt to keep pace
The dog and the cat and the pig they would race
Faster and faster they’d run through the fields
Though what was the secret of friendship revealed
None were the same as they differed and so
Still bound together a’ running they’d go
Never before as I think about that
Has a dog or a pig ever friended a cat
For ever so prissy, no memories jog
A cat who was friends with a pig and a dog
Though still I could see right abreast of my eyes
These three companions did bring the surprise
What is the moral of all that I see?
It sure does not matter of your company
Whether a dog or a pig or a cat
You can make friends with whomever you chat
People are different in color and race
But everyone seems to be wearing a face
A face that can smile, a face that can cry
A face that can hello or even good bye
If only we look at each other the same
Will we find fortune in learning their name
No matter the differences that we might see
It pays for each of us to every time be
Nice to each other and all things like that
Just like the dog and the pig and the cat
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
I suckled my mother's Bluetooth breast
while my father built me a bassinet
of series circuits with high, motherboard
bars.
I've got that artificial baby glow.
But Mom put my ****** on Facebook
at four weeks and I still haven't re-friended
(forgiven) her. My upgrade's in nine months,
but I want my downgrade now
'cause all I get are social invite excuses
from Facebook fuckfaces. We pack
our lives into little boxes that we're
not even allowed to open.
We drink to technology, keep our lazy
eyes on our news feeds, and recycle
ideas like their owners would even
want to see what we've done to them.
We misquote Confucius and credit ourselves
with mangled Robert Frost stanzas.
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I think
it's awesome that Pepsi used to be blue."
Reblog, revine,
retweet, FaceTime.
Folding chair fold-out on someone's lawn.
White-out Yeats, Keats, Byron, and Auden,
and write John ******** or Tom Whatever.
We're caught in the chicken wire of an LCD
fruit basket so neat, orderly, and brushed
aluminum. How can people write in Starbucks?
S
B
U
X
B
S
The cooler's too ****** music's too shy,
and the sugar, no, not just the sugar.
THE PEOPLE are too artificial.
The carpet-suit inlay I'm standing
on has pencil lead, sock lint,
and receipt shred lapel pins.
Even corporations play dress-up.
But what happens when Y2K kicks
in tomorrow?
Lives will be lost even before
the missiles **** us.
And the planes that drop
from the sky won't even come close
to when the bough breaks your little
girl's heart, baby, because your phone
can't raise her anymore, so you have to.
And based on your search history,
tweets, and recorded dreams,
she's better off in the warm
embrace of a hard drive.
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC
Deep down
I crave the sacred
Now that everything is
Just a dust mote limping along
The curvature of a light beam
in this dilapidated house
I've winked
At everything but the kitchen-sink --
Although, I do have my eye on it
Cynic
Know-it-all that knows he knows
Nothing
Conflicted
I wish I knew subtlety
Mona Lisa's quarter-smirk
Makes my emojis feel
Sorta slutty --
like they try too hard ya know?
^.^
Heaven:
Rainbow-colored
toothbrush mustaches
And
Killer drones friended by elm trees
Dissimulation is
my religion
Because
it just explains things,
It walks back the big crutch
It makes gods into amoebas
All. I. have. are. words.
******* scribbles.
Stillborn syntactical limbs of whim
Severed at the moment of send
Yet still
I deliver and hold them
Close to me
They are my ex-press
A last confession straight to the quick
The world doesn't spin it screams
We just Van Gogh it with
Slurry nite nite sleep tight's
God, what I would give
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
(Cebuano word, an identifier for a male person whom we do not know by name.)
Here's a story of a not so lovely baby
Hey babay go'ne my way
Faded, on his way, shameless
Maybe needs some work....
What the hey, anyhow he play
The game of heart break
Silent now
Shirk and shake it off your shoulders
Telling myself insistingly
"He ain't my responsibility"
"I won't feel bad - take care of your own
****
We smoke and vape
The other **** we hit the days wide awake
My bad, acquaintance not much else
A brief voicemail
he is shaming whispering
"Hey bakla - what are you?"
Who that Price?
when your ice glaciers melt
And garbage comes bubbling up
From under your breath
So Truly only you
For reals tho'
Be he the abandoned one
Early on broke
Those years ago a kid
Hatred your imaginary friended
You're a G in your head
Spite quiets down when
Down and out ...
Crazy to suddenly
See you now
Still loathing me
And somehow I believed it
As cries for help but
Hungry wolf each night
Is still a dog
planning to bite.
Still angry at me for nothing's right
Just another sod
To prey and feed
Upon...
Yow not a dog
Your it's flea.
To think I prayed for you...
Forgot the gist of this
So so sorry
No kidding this morning
No taller story
Than pretending to be something
Worthy.
As friend as family.
Now you're just a ****
Someone Without a name
If Strangers call you ****
I still do not know you
Aren't that close with
Who you've wronged before...or
Why I'm an open door,
Walked on all over
Sorry so tardy to tell you
No more.
****
Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 1:30 AM UTC
Romeo, oh Romeo
Wherefore art thou Romeo?
I friended you on Facebook an hour ago
and I saw you tweeted recently, so...
Romeo, oh Romeo
I can see you're location with these iPhone apps
And I e-mailed thee this route from Yahoo maps
so you should of been here, but perhaps...
Romeo, oh Romeo
I stare at your picture in utter torment
because you deleted my Myspace comment
I know! I'll text bomb your phone 'till ye repent!
Romeo, oh Romeo
They say stalkers should feel ashame'
Thy parents say I only have myself to blame
I say deny thy father, and...(oooh, I just Googled thy name)
Dec 14, 2010
Dec 14, 2010 at 3:56 PM UTC
I posted a status today.
I got the job I wanted.
My heart was was on high.
And no one liked it.
I posted a status today.
It was a youtube video
about some funny dumb ****
And four people liked it.
I posted a status today.
It was political and a fresh point of view about gay rights.
Six people liked it. And one person de-friended me.
I posted a status today.
It was about drinking and partying my *** off.
Fifteen people liked it. And three commented on joining in.
I posted a status today.
I said how sad it was what I saw today:
That a couple is out to dinner.
And spent most of the time looking at facebook instead of
enjoying each others company and talking.
Twenty people liked it. One of them was the guy I saw at the restaurant.
A person commented on that status saying, ******
No one liked that person's comment.
I posted a status today.
"Say -- John Mayer"
What I meant to say was, "Why are we so afraid of saying what we need to say?"
Two likes.
I posted one last status today.
#Amurica.
Twenty-eight likes.
And a SMH as I looked at my smart phone.
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 6:51 PM UTC
To my ex's friends
who all friended me on Facebook
even though I'd never met you
once in my life
I graciously accepted
your cyber-creepy gestures
and you all wrote on my wall
and told me I looked nice
three months later
I broke up with him
and now you keep your distance
and don't even like my statuses?
guess I'm not so nice anymore.
Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 9:10 PM UTC
I have made sounds that were foreign to my ears
And have laid in strange places.
But as long as the fire remained lit at home,
No matter how dim,
All was well.
I have found myself in places a Christian ought not be
And have friended with those even the devil would shun.
But everloving did the fire burn
Deep in the heart of my home.
The night came when the fire was put out
And there was no one to go home to.
At midnight I was in a drunken stupor.
At dawn I was as pathetic as a newborn babe.
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
Yeah you facebook friended me and you
Tend to like my posts and I don't mean
You actually like them but when the display tells me you like them,
When I see that red number over above that blue planet in the corner
I feel it in my guts, in my *****
Like you Like Like me
Yeah but all that stuff's twisted its way into our consciousness like
Jagged metal and I won't stop
Beating my own brains over the wreckage
Because it feels so good in that
High-fructose, instant ****** kind of way.
But there's my fantasy self, collecting herbs in the garden
He never accomplished anything and he's
Getting thinner and more transparent every day
But from the bathroom window I keep ************ him into cruel, tortured, frightened existence.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 5:42 PM UTC
Hateful atheist
Ecstatic to convert
With cruelty and a mean spirit
A facade of compassion
Fingers to point at what you can't understand, bewildered
What you cannot understand, unable
To point and to laugh
Refusing to "come down" to a level
You feel above
A different level of hate
A different level of love
Worshiping science
You somehow can't see
Science is to look
God is to be
Through microscope and telescope
God can be seen
A rotten fruit on a dying vine
Cursed to be trapped in space and time
An awesome cathedral you feel is enough
It doesn't worry you that there will come a day
When you will be evicted
Wanting more
Never enough
The best you can do is to die in your sleep
Or fall to the elements
Anything to steal away the last 60 seconds
The panic of uncertainty
The all consuming fear of something unknown
The dread of learning, finally finding out
Finding out, in this last moment, that you're more than you thought
Just in time to say goodbye, just in time to lose it
Your infantile perception of space will collapse upon itself
Your time is running out, second by second, precious, more than days
More than years, more than a lifetime
Or perhaps defiant
"I don't even care
Take me away
Get me outta here"
Still mocking the faithful
Hateful and condescending
Giving no quarter
You tell me you are content
With your legacy
"My legacy will be more than enough"
When what we'll remember
Is how you used to smoke all our dope
And when it came time to share
You never had anything more to offer
Than a lousy pinner
Sep 23, 2010
Sep 23, 2010 at 5:37 AM UTC
Neon green leaves of glory swaying in blue courage wind
Dancing patterns of fall move through branches still
Fallen blankets of crinkled matter brushed against the grounded swill
Heart pounds in uphill tide, wandering galloping keeping pace
With backpacked bones bodied in friended slide
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 8:41 PM UTC
I don't belong,
In this "modern age"
Mom said,"Mandy,
You need a face book page"
I had one, once that I abandoned
I must've forgotten why
It didn't take me long,
To remember, it's all a lie
I prefer the woods,
You can't "filter" the view of an evergreen
No downloads in nature,
Just life, real and clean
The sound of squirrels at play,
The smell of rotten leaves
Watching the breaking of day,
No cleavage shown
Not a ***** in site,
Unless the deer are in rut
Then you just might
No "look at me's"
No "See what I've got"
Social media, I believe,
Causes brain rot
If I'm not in the woods,
My nose is in a book
Give me pretty words,
Then I'll take a second look
I already "friended",
Pen and page
I've nary a need,
For a "fake book" page
I like the dirt,
Things that grow
When it's winter,
I like the snow
I say,"Mom, I have an account,
On a poetry site,
Where people read poems
And all of us write.
Our words and dreams,
Thats what we share
And instead of our possessions or skin,
Its our stories, we bare."
Yea, I think it's safe to say
I don't care for this modern age,
And I've nary a single reason
For "fake book" page
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC
Ive written about my experience
With a daughter i lost in my youth:
Amber waves in the still
Of my soul,
The story in my perception
Truth be spoken,
She wasnt really mine.
And my heart is stilled,
Born into my life
My love could not be seen
As fatherly,
A choice made
And years fade into the torture
That is my mind.
17 years after the four
Of loving her,
The love of my life,
The Ded inside the poet
Reaches into my reality
And once again all is
The chaos.
Ambers wave.....
I raised her for the first four years
Of her life knowing
She wasnt mine.
When my ex and i separated
I lost Amber too:
You reached into a well
Of souls and captured
My whole being,
Ambers waves like a beach
On Sunday morning's
Glory,
Life is in me to hear your voice,
And the truth comes
Like the last gasp.
Amber is my exs daughter,
She cheated on me and we assumed
Amber wasnt mine.
So four years i loved her.
She was born at 6 months old
And weighed only 2.7 pounds.
I reached out four months
Ago for some reason on facebook
After she friended me.
I asked her if she still talked to
The man we though was her dad:
Time is a hammer
Always pounding and memory
Is the tear we dont shed,
It all comes out at once
And the weight of regret
Can be lifted,
The soul cleansed,
The hope invigorating
And life is a dream within
A dream within....
She couldnt tell me anything
So her mother gets on messenger
And tells me she is going to call me.
She tells me Amber is mine.
That I was her father all along.
The stillness in my whole
Life lifted.
And the beauty of life is
That the unexpected
Is always the best anything,
Knowing is like a perpetual
Repetitive insanity,
Regret a broken record player,
Depression a choice within
Not to fight even when
You lose,
Ambers wave came like a
Dream awake.
The reality is,
If this is real, never wake me.......
My heart is open again.
Life is so beautiful.
Amber was born with cerebral
Palsy on the right side of her
Body, shes 21 and she found
She had a great big family
After feeling so alone.
She fights everyday and is in college
So when i met her she amazed
Me with her fight. Never
Giving up i awoke from
My stillness. I have a daughter
21 years old!!!!
My little girls have a big sister.
My still born was a metaphor
For my life being stopped after she wasnt in my life.
See my facebook for
The pictures of my long lost
Daughter. Life is a beautiful
Craziness.
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 10:27 AM UTC
Flashing lights....
Invade my sights
when my thoughts
are like...
Divorced thighs..
lips Swelled prepped
to resist my
goodbye...
Constricted hello's
while I play peek aboo
with her insides... her
breast dance to the melody's
played when satisfaction stops
to say hi...
I love her music, encouragement
for our momentary desires to
continue fusing..... Her ******
brewing, intimate temperatures
beg sensation to convert into
fluid, her appreciation
oozing...
waste that demands
a volume increase
in her music while
her legs mimic the
speech of someone
in need of a pronunciation
improvement... Her stomach
too friended that stuttering
movement.... Excitement's
introduction to the lungs
is a bit confusing altering
the amount of air needed
and what the body loses
I love her music...
Soundtracks of lust
play from our bodies
as we continue this
bonded movement...
her tones, multi pitched
moans mixed with the
bathing sound of her ocean
cruising... our boats collide
lending us such blissful
bruisings,
smooth sailing.....
her unlimited supply
of friction proofing
I love her music
Day dreaming
© 2014 viewtifulink
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
MY SPITTLE DRIZZLES
ON YOUR FACE IN MY DREAMS
(yes I dream it)
BECAUSE I TALK FAST,
BECAUSE I AM NOT PASSIVE
(in my dream i sweetly note it)
AND BECAUSE I AM IN-FRIENDED.
Call: Placed. From across the wall
so as to get myself around your brain
more than your(self) is by me(mine).
call call.. ahead or something.
Down the line (street)
I heard your rhymes and chimes
while I happened to be smoking dimes
up way up in A town ..
And yes it sounds.
pounds my ears, up;
through my head and into my
head's bedroom.
(Such a room
admittedly clakkity clacks
when vibrated
by a rhyme
that at one time
you chimed)
but kind,
fickle times
poison my mind
with wrinkled wrinkled: fine.
Jan 26, 2010
Jan 26, 2010 at 1:35 PM UTC
Just A Simple Thank You
I want to thank each one of you
For reading all my rhymes
I have 10,000 readers
In only 6 months time
I appreciate all your words
And the kindness of your hearts
The sharing of this passion
That some would call an art
I remember not to long ago
I would throw these words away
Thinking that this passion
Was somehow just a faze
I want to give a special thanks
To those who friended me
You helped me tell my stories
And you share this love with me
Carl Joseph Roberts
I wanted to just take a moment to thank you all.
Your kindness has allowed me to share my heartache.
Your words of encouragement helped heal my heart.
Your poems inspired me to keep writing and posting.
Many of your poems touched my inner soul.
You helped me laugh, cry, and feel sorrow.
You encouraged me to push forward in my writtings
Your words and poems have inspired.
I know that we may never meet in person
There is however a bonding friendships that will last.
Thank you for reading my poems
I hope to have 10,000 more reads in the next 6 months.
If however I only touch but one then this is worth it.
A simple thank you my friends and fellow poets. ...Joe
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 5:14 AM UTC
And the journey begins
From the land of 10,000 10,000 mile high clouds
Drenching jungles and shores of ancient coral gardens
Long since harvested from the sea
Where they plant the love of their country in foreigners row by row by row
Where bananas resemble mashed potatoes and are served with onions
Where people can name the entire Yankees roster and have never kicked a soccerball
And yes my feet are tired
Because flip flops, like the government, offer little support
And who knows when I'll get the last grain of sand out of my hair
Or when the ringing in my ears from trumpet blasts will finally fade
Or the taste of unavoidably ingested bug spray will finally stop burning the back of my throat
my speedo tan lines will likely be the first to go
But all the myriad lessons internalized (read: only spray yourself with bugspray out doors)
All the friends friended with zero electronic interference (like the turtle hatchling I held or the man who volunteers years of his life protecting them for results that likely won't be seen in his lifetime)
Will live inside me forever
For, ever will my journey continue
Until we meet
And I can share them all with you
We can feast on them together
And they can maybe one day help you grow
like a mangrove tree
and harbor ideas of love in your roots like baby fish
And maybe if you're lucky, even taste the bug spray for yourself
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 12:20 AM UTC
Cowboy hat Ima ranger
Two pistols on my hip I'm the danger
Feeling trapped Ina chamber
Disgraced now I'm offended
Sorrow long gone glad that it ended
Deleted my Facebook that why you were un friended
So dont blame me for the courtesy
Freedom in stake the force of captivity
Dont really care if they murdered me
Cause I'm sick, sick of this ****
Walking on ice but it ain't that thick
Got a 5 star beautiful chick
So what am I saying I got no problems
Homie if you gotta a problem ***** we can solve em.
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC