Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
sean rozario Feb 2010
In this chapter of life,
I decipher decisions with my knife,
resting under a tree,
staying out of the light,
i know i must stay alive,
resting my hand on the hilt of my sword,
standing for battle once more,
I lower my mask,
to show my evil core,
a wondering ronin bent on settling a score,

I fight for family,
and poverish,
and anyones who's suffered,
my katana will strike for you,
pride of the samurai,
fire falls from the sky,
let the gods cry tonight,
tonight, tonight,

Using my thumb,
I release my zanpakuto from its sheath,
I'm ready to strike at any time,
but first i think of the ones i love,
for if it wasn't for them,
I wouldn't be standing today,
glancing down to see the three skulls hanging from my waist, residing next to my knife,
the man whom taught me to fight,
the day he died,
he lied in my arms,
i love.....
never getting to say who,
might have been the first time my father cried,
the same king hath slain dad in my eye,
was the same man,
to burn my son alive,
only proceeding to **** and **** my wife,
she ceased to cry,
I never shed a tear,
just held their screaming heads for all to hear,
i started to walk,

I fight for family,
and poverish,
and anyones whos suffered,
my katana will strike for you,
pride of the samurai,
fire falls from the sky,
let the gods cry tonight,
tonight, tonight,

With every clinching strike,
I **** the demons underlings,
slicing and hacking,
I remember each and every soul,
I'll pray for them,
not to be ***** in hell,
standing before the demon king,
grabbing my sword I don't even need,
I could **** this man with one bare hand,
he'll cower in fear as my kin never did,
I cut him once across his chest,
splitting his cage of once were ribs,
his organs spill to the ground,
finger through the blood,
lower down to grab his heart,
palmed his head in my bare fist,
raising my sword to his neck,
you think this is pain?
try hell,
with that said,
I split his head from his neck,
tying his hair to my belt,
a fourth skull i must hold.
copyrigth 2010 s.Rozario
Sylvene Taylor Jun 2014
Shes poor- with a dead beat dad whom lives in the house but no connection-he stays on the couch while mother works her *** off cleaning houses and sweeping the floors of ones whoms only problem is their maunfuctioning macbooks.
shes poor with dreams-shes in college working so hard she could build a town of workers from her one mind and soul. her dedication is stronger than Lebron James to his game, stronger than Katie Ledeckys swims to win gold. She works hard and plays hard as Wiz Kalifa parades- to get that trophy of success.
shes poor with dreams and loans-she poops them out like twice a day, they pile like beyonces money by the second they pile just so she can achieve-so she can get that trophy so she can crawl her way out of her poverish ways-with a dead beat dad that lives on the couch with no connection and a mother cleaning homes of the macbook pros
shes poor with dreams and loans and now debt. She graduated highest of her class-4.0 no more no less-perfection is she, she always has been-
but none of that seemed to matter for now all that stares back at her is debt and defeat.
shes poor with no where to turn-why did she dig a deeper hole of de,bt why the hell is she paying out of her *** while the their children in college parents make double,
triple,
quadruple of her mother. Their parents can pay but because they wrote a few right answers to the test they pass with no blood on their hands-clean-
Those kids will keep the change, the change she has been trying to achieve her entire life
the change she bust her heart for
the change that will never come
in a society like ours.

— The End —