these people.
these ******* people.
the ones on the subway
the ones revin' their engines in their "sweet rides"
they stare
you're so ****** aware
that their eyes
burn a hole in the back of your
neck
it all about self respect
and you spit in the dust
with disgust
theres no hope for a better future
because theres no ****** respect left
it all got lost
in the melting ***
and we've got the whole world at
our finger tips
we've got a voice to spill out like *****
but this voice is beautiful and it comes from the
lips
and im talkin musically
the jives and the riffs
where you let the vibes sound right
and when the beats feelin tight
you sway your hips and you throw your arms in the air
you don't give a ****. you don't care.
these people.
these ****** people.
they stare.
you say some silent prayer to yourself
some **** like
keep those eyes away
see theres a whole lota **** you keep
silent
but you really want to say
i don't know
somethin like: how you use pain to mask pain
and everyday is the same
when the drugs in your veins
so cut it wide open
and let all run red
run run
run red
but wait.
you cant let this **** go straight to your
head
instead silence the thoughts
since they'll label you
crazy
maybe
maybe you're crazy
maybe you're insane
to the point where meds don't do jack
**** to contain-
they just unleashed
the beast
and that little voice in your mind
the one that tell you simple matters
as in "turn left here"
or don't forget to shut the light
is now stabbing at your brain with a
mother ****** knife
they say its alright
they said luvox and prozac, and kolonipin and vyvanse
will fix you
fix you.
get you through
it could.
it would possibly give you a chance.
to be normal
but what the hell is normal?
is normal conforming to society?
is normal facing everyday with a life of
sobriety
it cant be
theres no such thing as normalcy
theres no such thing as peace
or self expression
or that release
when you know that you've got it all at your fingertips
and then it splits-
it tears and rips
this world is cut wide open man
because of the people.
the ****** people.
as they try to decide
who you are,
and you laugh
because the fronts, the facades,
to cover up lies
the makeup or drugs
or those clothes
are just a disguise
and when you're weakened and worn
and no one will realize
how badly you've been tattered and torn
they don't give a ****. they don't even care.
because these people,
these ******* people.
will stare
stare into space
stare right through you
stare into an abyss
stare straight into nothing
into nowhere.
you know its not right
you know its not fair
but what do you know?
you're just one of them too.
you cant deny it
or hide it
we haven't evolved
were still monkeys and apes
running wild...
see were still running wild...
just on a monotonous and mild
frontier
its the people.
the ******* people who stare.
trying to figure you out.
size you up
but they always happen to
catch you
when you're stuck in the rut
when you look like ****
when you're in a manic state
throwin a rant or a fit
and hey thats great..
but they always scope you out-
i didn't brush my teeth today
just stuck a piece of gum
in my ******* mouth
its those days
those people.
when you want to scream and shout
those ******* people who size you up in a
minute.
but if they'd just lived it.
man if they'd just been in it.
and experienced the *******.
the people
those ******* people
who have used and abused
this world and this land
we stand and demand
peace and freedom
an some say
**** it
we don't need em'
but some recite it like the bible or the koran
raise their palms to some higher power
and some fight it
because these people need to
wake the **** up
stop starring
and get a grip.
these ****** people
need to understand this:
the whole worlds at their fingertips.
slam poetry whatsupp!!!
