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zebra Sep 2018
have you ever seen beauty in a silky nightmare
have you  ever seen the monster of deprivation in heavens promise?

we speak of private things
we should never talk about
about vailed women
and their terrible secrets
and about myself who remains no longer a secret to myself

somewhere i went off the track
like a  daisy chain saw of honesty
to ensure you knew i was sick
a sick **** with a trick
as if i ate some ****** up hallucinogenic' s
making me spill my obsessions all over you
like some weird perfumed *****
down a swirling rainbow toilet
that turns out to be only jelly and whipped cream
wrapped in colored ribbons on cellophane tampons

i feel like  having *** or going to the toilet in public
while waving my hands up in the air
screaming yahoo i'm free
to blow to kingdom come
the temple of normalcy
you know
the church of rose gardens, cemeteries and deprivations
except of course for the sneers, smears
and self loathing vanilla demons
who wear long see through dresses and crosses
like dash board plastic virgins
with bobbing heads
that make hissing sounds about sin

i confess
i'm attracted to the darkest women
strange *******
and  ******
the stranger the better
who shake their butts
like hoodoo enchanted show girls
doing what they shouldn't do
crying and scrying like cooing moons calling
"drink me like ****** Mary
daddy **** lollypop"
all inky tats and razorblade ouchies

or
you can join those
covered in white collared black as death habits
begging the invisible *** cake in paradise
waiting for mercy and a little ****
that never comes
stuck in an empty
loveless bar of crucifixes that only serves up theology

oh baby
***** dreams do come true
pink ****** ***** gladly widen their haunches
like **** without boots
not caring if they go to hell
playin
like a joy ride of fiddle **** sticks
all freaky tongues and tingling licks
thick saliva multi lingual blow jobs
lathering flashing lipped saliva for the squirt  
with fiery wet hypodermic kisses
that make screams
like creamed upleaping lava and ash
for a million hungry sexed up twisting tongues
in occult ecstasy
fecundating shrouds of steamy clouds
in stained red black lighted rooms
with cherub crowned *****
and their drooling snatches buttered ****

eat quivering
like fowl mouthed piranhas
crying more raw meat please
while you drag your perfect person visage
into hollow caves of despair
cold and lonely

so you forlorn love struck weeping
horney pathetic scarecrow
socially engineered robots
if you want love
like heated buttery waffles with sweet jam
just give your self away like slutty putty
to lust criminals and *** addicted pervs  
until
you feel someone swallow you whole
soul and all
and lick their lips
like your their cherry pie

then look passed your
rats nest of pride and exhaustive approval list
and love them back
like free beer
bang their brains out
be their slave and make them yours
in the mad house of love
of warped shimmering mirrors, straight jackets, and squeezy insertions

and if one day they don't appreciate your imperfect perfection
if they weaponize like critic's
teach them respect
shove it where they breathe
lick your wounds
be brave
throw them in the trash bin of history
and move on

Eros and Venus
take a million forms

look around
your swimming in a giant bowl of broken hearts
hungry mouths, drenched ***** and hard *****

you whimpering little beasts
dress to ****
undress to live

its a movable feast
advice to the lovelorn young
thank you to Lora Lee for the line
" swirling toilet rainbows"
Fah Sep 2013
Time or the essance of Death

distilled.

No matter the who -
Someone , some force
snowballed.

The greatest daylight robbery -
that of our TIME.
TIME.
is not money

"At least in my books"
-me.
avery Dec 2018
Love is not easy return
love is not slice a cake
love is not lemon squeezy
love is not chill
Love is permanent  
and most importantly
when love is broken
Love gets revenge.
Nat Lipstadt May 2018
for jul**

she asks a-rat-a-tat sensible
peppering of questions;
“why do I give away my poems so easy and so fast, why me”

the answer so readily apparent,
so easy peasy lemon squeezy,
my style is who you are!

every-oft and every-then,
a leader-reader believes my words
so profound so entire so joyful wonderful!
that title passes there and then

a poem without a dedication but a-dressed-up-lovely
without a ^hat,^  missing the zing of panache
that makes its DNA complete, then someone comes along
who loves it so more than enough, placing that rakish angled love with a bejeweled hat pin just so, and that hat makes
the poem so much more, the jewel whispering confirmation
vive la différence!

so a dedication to/is

purest dedication -
exactly!

and this one
a jewel for the poem
for jul
be a
just
be cause






5:47am
<•>
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTgCn4qmRvU
Sometimes, i think i knew who you are,
because i build you in my mind,
and this makes you ok.
Like i have looked through the eye-hole
of my handmade gun,
and let you come in.
Though really,
i don't know who the ******* are,
or who the **** i am dealing with.
I don't understand, 'you'.
I don't get why, i have to leave, to walk away,
but yet,
I want you to follow,
even just to ask me if i am ok,
even just as a friend,
and it didn't matter that we had ******, quite a few times.
Did i hurt you?
No, i definitely don't think so.
Do i appear emotionally erratic?
I don't think so, but,
Yes;
because people like you, and before you, before,
used words i don't understand to hurt me,
uttered from their mouths, that they then used to kiss me
and tell me 'it's alright', or 'you're mine', or 'you're beautiful',
and you knew about them,
or am i erratic because i wish to mean nothing more than great ***, wine and food, to you,
but, some kind of respect would be nice;
i mean, i show more love to my hamster, and he can't talk.
What's wrong with that?
I don't mean to reel you in,
and have you;
Indeed i like you a lot,
(sorry liked),
but i don't understand why it is easier to ignore me,
than talk to me,
or is it because,
because you can't feel anything then,
or you handle the madness you created?
Or was it my madness to begin with?
Or was it just you being an emotionally errant piece of work,
who once got your heart broken by someone you unequivocally loved,
and it divided you, and both made you in to the man you are,
So, who are you? Man or mouse?
But also,
is it true that you can't handle the knowing, that, you did this.
To someone you liked.
I know, because you told me.
Because its easier to ignore and pretend it never happened.
That's such an easy play....easy peasy lemon squeezy *******.
You are responsible for your fuckwittery.
You reacted in a emotionally unintelligent childish way,
calling me names, ignoring me, judging me, telling me i had a certain disorder,
(tho you never read Kant, left school at 16, and well, no job, slept around, lived in a fantasy land, anything else? Exhibitionist? Master? OCD?)
**** knows, but i didn't fit in with your world.
'you are a victim, you play it so well, you're looking for a hero'
Now that was a good one,
so good it broke my heart,
and i never even loved you,
but apparently you thought it was ok,
to break another human being, just because you can't handle........what the **** is it?
So now i think i know who you are,
I test you once or twice,
I contact you,
because I like to believe in some insane, maniacal way, we were, ooooh dare i say, friends...?
And the reaction is the same.
So it lends me to believe,
you liked me enough to **** me,
but when you liked me enough to care,
or because i 'would mean something to you',
or 'you don't know me at all',
or did i emasculate you?
and that, it really really, wasn't ok.....
So here is my responsibility taking effect;
I am truly and utterly sorry if anything i did or said hurt/offended you in an invisible manner i knew not of because i didn't know you, and you didn't let me in, for many reasons, (probably the aforementioned heartbreak/or your masculine ego), and i am sorry if i somewhat acted erractic, crazy, stalkerish, because i had no clue as to what was going on or had happened, with us.
Enough?
And, phew, argh,
For something i do not understand,
I see through you,
but me, in my own wonderful way
think you're more than that,
a better person;
but i did not deserve your full on ******* egotistic-defense full on eradicate mode,
(because one of you,
one of you, i really loved.....
but its ok because,
born a rag doll, always a rag doll, isn't that what you said?
To think that, I loved you **** good baby)
'You do it yourself, you do'
That's a good one
And no, I am no more 'mental' than you are a '****'
Think about that as you judge me
on your internet throne
ignoring me on your black book phone.
What the **** is this ****?


Revelation through writing has never been so empowering.
Paul Butters Jan 2021
Wordsong, wordsong,
Lovely as birdsong.
Could be a Pop Song,
But never a Swansong.

Could be a rap,
And all that *******.
For Rap is easy,
Lemon squeezy.
But rap has beat
And words that repeat.
Rap has rhyme
Nearly every time.
Rap even has metre –
Who can beat her?

Yet wordsong is melodious too,
Giving us a worldly view.
Poems of love and dedication
Even human emancipation.
Whoops I’m slipping back -
Back into that addictive rap.

You must remember to read out loud –
Silver lining on every cloud.
Poetic landscapes catch our gaze,
Brightening up our mundane days.

The river of life keeps flowing on,
Iambic metre our beating heart.
Read it like you’re singing a song,
Write it whether or not it’s Art.

So play those words
So full of feeling
Just like the birds
And so appealing.

Paul Butters

© PB 27\1\2021.
Sing It Out Loud.
dania Dec 2017
some days I pretend carry no change in them
I pretend in the twenty four hours elapsed, nothing consequential has happened

I pretend that my recovery is unthreatened,
I pretend therapy will work
I pretend nothing inside me has broken
(at least, not beyond repair)

other days, willingly or unwillingly, I remember
change change change
comes back to me like a fire from the past
feeling hotter than it might've back then
here i am drawing it back from what i feared it would feel like
and never really let myself feel
so how am i to know it would've hurt like this back then?
only a guess i suppose
but I go with it, embrace it
reflection is a memory and I think about her once I see her all day
can't bear to look at any new one, the one I might call myself today
the one I need to recognize as myself
but can't bring myself to

here's a confession for no ears, about the bad years
about the longing that so strongly defines my days

i suffocate every few days, lose myself every few hours
then decide to keep going.

this, at least in theory, is a nice thought.
a year ago i never thought to believe i had it in me to live any sort of life, have any kind of continuity.

the latter is still true. i still don't know how to keep going in a straight line. my best friend tells me healing is not linear. so i've embraced it

learned to go up and down and be okay with it
this is the longest i've gone without thinking about ******* ** ***
Molly Oct 2015
I'm pulling my hair, but it's easy.
Head against the bathroom stall wall,
staring at my feet and the tiles
and I'm smiling. It's easy.

There's no one to love, but that's fine.
Just plenty of friends, good articles,
wine and a big warm house
not far from the sea. It's so ******* easy.

Do you love me? Of course you do.
Look at me. There's so much to see.
I'm smiling, I'm so ******* happy.
Maybe I'm empty, but it's so easy.

I'm adjusting to life as a level-headed,
less narcissistic ***** who was a force
to be reckoned with. And this is it -
a kinder, better me. It's so easy.
john lindsay Jan 2016
The snagged line grows taut
As I repeat the question
" Is there anything you want?"

House too empty , stairs too steep
She wants me back, I worry
"Weve been to ASDA , dont ask what i bought"

Saturday afternoon phonecall
"How are things?"
The reluctant tagline
"Not so bad"

Front garden going native
I set off down the cracked path
Doesnt want next door to see
I dont wave

TALKING THEIR LANGUAGE

June classroom, stir of voices
Arriva trains glide to the coast
Coffee needs filling, the last biscuit goes
This afternoon we look at idioms

Unpicking centuries, cultures
Somalia, Bangla Desh, Kurdistan
English remains official
Still a puzzle

"Speak slowly and clearly"
"Dont hit trees with sticks"
"Its a piece of cake"

The intricacy of language
Shapes ancient letters
"Lemon squeezy " chimes Messa
Our laughter is shared
UNRAVELLING... during the final years of her life, my mother suffered severe depression. The poem tries to examine the struggle in communication I experienced in these times
TALKING THEIR LANGUAGE
Last year I worked as a voluntary tutor with immigrant learners from various nationalities. This expresses the difficulities the English language sometimes presents , and also some of the fun it can generate, also.
Ma Cherie Oct 2016
We are like
leftover love for dinner
have a bit,
winner, winner,
I have a Magic Kitchen
it's really *******'
& so bewitchin'
so much better the next time,
or prepared inside a rhyme,
add a bit of needed time,
reheated for
when it's breezy
or even freezy,
warm and cheesy
easy peasy
nice & squeezy,
accompanied by
a simple salad
a soft playing ballad

we have some
arugula dressed up
& maple roasted roots
emmmm,
so yummy yummy,
for my tummy,
making yummy memories
& love...

a private room for two,
right here a there is a booth,

in lovely pomegranate vintage dresses,
my lovely silken raven tresses,
lips taste of the sweetest wine,
my tongue & you are intertwined,

followed by
Ben & Jerry's ice cream
Sunday's,
& once again love
on Mondays,
every day with you a funday,
would you be

my love come one day?
? Idk ; )
Selma Bee Jun 2015
So, they don’t let you know that it’s easy to be ready.
All I hear on the topic, is: steady, or, “ready, Freddy?”

It was so very easy, with myself, to be concerned.
But look at me now, all these things, with which I’m adorned.

Everyone is so easy to be around today
A big change, but a great one, I say.

They seem to look at me, thinking that I’m pulling a stunt.
Although they think I cannot see their worry, I can; they are being rather blunt.

Were I to have been told that being fine would be so easy peasy
I may not have been as concerned about giving in, lemon squeezy.

For once, I ran around and played some games with others out there.
We all were in it to win it; they needed me, to be fair.

Yet, it seems as though they really truly like me.
Maybe myself really is the best thing to be.

Today I laughed, screamed, ran, shouted, had a **** good time
Should anyone ask me, I can only say: It was sublime!

That was yesterday, when I promised to be more daring.
Do not fear, it does not mean I cannot also be caring.

This feeling is so wonderful, so nice.
If it could last forever, man, that would suffice.

I made a wish last night, as I looked up high at the stars,
Please, I asked them, let this last awhile. Let me go far.
Standing in the hospital
Hungover, feeling jittery
Ward  93
Drug and Alcohol Dependency Unit
I finger the squeezy lemon bottle
Hidden inside my boxer shorts
Full of second-hand ****

Ward 93 operates as a strict regime
3 strikes and you're out
That means that every time
You give a positive sample
They give you a warning
More than 3 and your
Methadone is stopped
I'd had all 3

After a phone call to my
( only) clean friend
I met him in the pub
3 or 4 beers later
I hit him with it
He took it reasonably well
It not being every day
A friend asks you to ****
Into a bottle for him

So......
There I was, hungover nervous
With a squeezy lemon of
Someone elses​ **** in my shorts
Hidden just behind my *****
To keep it at body temperature
If you handed over the sample
Bottle and it was cold
The Nurse might become suspicious
Or think that you were dead

This required sleight of hand
And nerve
The Nurse would stand right behind you
In the cubicle to watch you
Anyway
It worked
This time
The next time I couldn't
Get in touch with my friend
So I had to resort to
Trying it with tea
Amazingly they said
That this sample contained
Opiates
And I was thrown off the programme

Either their equipment was faulty
The bottle was contaminated
Or something
But just in case
I started to
Drink a lot of tea
Well, you never know
And I guess
They've got to keep
Sales up
Somehow
ailurophile Nov 2013
February
Three squeezes.
My mother told me that
Sometimes the words get tired,
Sometimes people get worn out,
So  we can squeeze instead.
Three squeezes, and four in return.
I love you.
Too.
You pretended not to understand,
Too afraid of permanence.

June
Your face was just as familiar
Even three weeks away.
Your warmth my home,
Hand in hand and natural.
Three squeezes.
Four in return.
A gravitational pull,
A nirvana,
A promised land.
You were mine
to hug so tight I might crack a rib.
But that's just how I loved you.
The squeezy type of way.

September
Three squeezes.
Silence.
A reluctant reply,
A command sent from the mind
But not the heart.
The silent book we had written together
No longer lay open on your shelf.
My mother told me that
Sometimes people get tired,
Sometimes people get worn out.
She never told me that sometimes
People get tired of you.
Epic Monkey Oct 2016
Her laughter resonated
for only a moment
Then it lingered
releasing all tension
As if life in me detonated
in a glimpse of a moment
As it hindered
every little expression

Afraid to be too cheesy
All the poetry stayed inside
The touch of her cheeks so squeezy
The euphoria in me I couldn't hide
Couldn't make a single blink
Every ability of mine she defied
My weakness is this I think
When charm and bliss collide

As the laughter started to fade
The spark didn't last
The sun turned slowly to shade
and the void in me grew fast
Slave to a laughter to end my agony
Soaked in anxiety, deprived of rest
I'll defy myself despite my atony
Bring back that laughter, my ultimate quest

It was a hideous day when i saw her frown
Maiming my strength, twisting me around
Someone had just broken her heart
Remodeled her face, that piece of art
I got her flowers
of all sorts of colors
Tried a few pokes
Threw a few jokes
My neck bent down
But her frown never bent

But the next day she rose like a cedar tree
She became the hero I couldn't be
Flew her way up to happiness' peaks
I stood up as she lifted my soul
Reborn from those round cheeks
with soft lips and bright eyes at each pole


And I waited...
I waited not for too long

Till her laughter resonated
for only a moment
Then it lingered
releasing all tension
Then life in me detonated
in a glimpse of a moment
As it hindered
Every possible expression

~Epic Monkey
Ben Kaw Mar 2018
The timid moon obscures itself
in shadows of intrigue.
Every night you wax,
a striptease of your soul.

The moon looks over all the stars
reflecting the light of an absent sun.
The cold night glows with wonder.
Though you are smaller than the stars,
the twinkles are minuscule in my eyes.

If you are the moon,
and the moon is made of cheese,
then why am I
cheesy so squeezy.
3/10/2018
I took a walk with my mom today
It was an old park where I used to play
We sat on the swings for what felt like hours
On our way out we stopped and picked flowers

Before heading home, I went into a shop
It was an antique looking place I used to stop
Everything looked the same, in its unique spot
Who could have guessed I would have missed this a lot

I saw an old friend walking on the street
He looked a little busy for the two of us to meet
When leaving I spotted a penny on the ground
I reached down and flipped it around

Later on, my dad and I went on a drive in my truck
All the gears were shifting fine, so we were in good luck
We stopped at a place we’d visit when I was young
All those times I would sit there and bite my tongue

Yet there was still some sunshine left at the end of the day
So, I went to the lake to pray
When I was done, a bluebird came to visit
But he was gone in mere minutes

Goodbyes have never been easy
But life’s not always lemon squeezy
Yet there’s peace in this serenity
Knowing that I still have all of eternity
The little boy who cried life
All he ever wanted was a
Piece of the pie but all
All he ever got was
A life full of lies trying
Trying to materialize
And fantasize coming
With images in his mind
What does he realise?
What does he take from life?
I guess he just has to
Improvise and accept life as it
I guess he has to simplify
And relax and handle his biz
Life didn't come lemon squeezy
Its hard the opposite of easy peasy
Then one day the boy cried he
Said himself this world is a lie
And then he saw as his tears fell
And all he could think to himself is
Life.....
RH 78 May 2018
Eye *****
Snooker *****
Footballs

No *****
Big *****
Snow *****

Kick *****
Rugby *****
Small *****

Tennis *****
Billiard *****
Hairy *****!

Shiny *****
Squeezy *****
Cheesy *****.
***** ***** *****. they are everywher
JP Mantler Mar 2017
The sun only feels good when it beats you down
I can't beat it right now but one day it's coming
My acting without thinking gets everyone riled up,
even when I shut up

I'm the jestor who stole the crown
The cellar king is mad and he's coming down
He points his finger at my sorry ***,
and I wag my tail fast

I may be burning but really I'm just getting by
With the stupidity and charm no intellect can find
My good intentions seem to be at fault,
so really I **** the lot off with my exhalt

I don't do much really but lick the asphalt
Like a lazy tootsie roll sticking to the hot ground
As I lay, an emotional rattle comes from some vent / vault,
so I kick the air all around

I have it so good and easy
So maybe I'll let the sun beat me down soon
And then it won't be so lemon-squeezy
To those who have it worse than others.
It is Valentines soon,
I am alone and feel like a buffoon.
I am not lonely for friends,
I am lonely for ends that bend, trip, criss-cross, and fend.
Romantic books,
make it feel easy,
but in these days,
it's not lemon squeezy.
My friends have talents that make girls barely balance.
I am romantic as war is to peace.
I can't and I won't.
Words to express are caught in my throat.
My heart does not float.
This is truth that I have wrote.
How do you get a girlfriend when you're 11? Probably really hard to do.  For people who relate, don't give up.  Keep trying!!
Lizzie Nelson Jan 2021
My friend, I miss you.
I miss the tingle of anticipation
that you’ll be coming through my door.
I miss the sway as we squeezy hug,
that charges and restores.
I miss the pretty notes of your perfume
the grey that sweeps your hair.
I miss saying that I like your top
and the brimming smiles we share.
Or saying, ‘Oh, you naughty thing!’
as I take the cake and wine,
you always do, though you always don’t
really need to bring.

I miss your natter, the laughs and snorts,
the ranging chats and views.
I miss hearing of your children
and all our other buddy news.
And when you’ve gone, the afterglow;
the altered atmosphere.
You left me more than cake, you know,
the joy that you were here.
Certainly a light poem but it was written early in the pandemic with the intention of  sending to all the friends that you could not have over. I realized that I missed how lovely the house felt after people had been in it, that positive change in atmosphere after it had been ringing with laughter.
I'm sorry if I'm too easy
for a friend of a friend
but i get too queasy
trying to play pretend

see I've been playing this game
shove in the tape hit re-wind
enough to know nothing ain't the same
so come on over and tell me what to find

it starts out slow
enough to let you think
then right before you know
the world begins to sink

my laughs contagious when I laugh at everything
call me crazy or a pick me up too
he won't bring a diamond ring
but we smile and say boohoo
Andrew Philip Oct 2017
I've seen sorry clowns,
happy hobos,
and a sun that's tired.
Lucky black cats
intelligent rats,
and words that expire.
Today I played hopscotch
with my demons
and fell in love
with multiple strangers.
It's easy peasy
lemon squeezy.
Squeeze me tighter.
Fearless Dec 2018
swipey swipey left or righty
I could do this all freakin nighty
I'll never call you, never text
I know you're all just after ***
boys are silly girls are too
they want true love but a ****** will do
easy peasy lemon squeezy
nobody thinks this stuff is sleezy?
Arlene Corwin May 2021
To those of you who know about my seven fingers. (It’s just a whim that makes me write this, hoping that t’s good poetry, that’s all.)


     What I Cannot Do: To Date…

Zip up zippers; hold a glass;
Unscrew caps sealed, fused or plastic.
I’m begun to keep a list
To check what’s missing, missed and lost.
There must be hundreds I will run across -
Beyond the bounds of possibility,
Unfeasible and unattainable.

Climbing into shower or tub is easy,
Getting into places ‘squeezy’
Can be handled (but not ‘hand’-led).
I find other means uncovered.
I’ve discovered mouth and tongue,
The art of ways to stretch and hang
My clothes on hangers;
Knots and bows and ways to share
Each strand of hair
So that each hair is neat and pretty.

I can tweeze my brows,
Clip all small toenails wobbly held.
There is a problem with the cold;
Day/night, room/room -
Temperatures not temperate.
Dust and stuff too disparate.

Vacuuming is hard to deal with,
That’s the time to steel myself,
No matter how it feels.;
Knife and fork can be a hinder.
Clumsy, tender, the best boon
Can often be a bowl and spoon.
(not in public where chagrin
Would soon persuade me to constrain;
(Which shows a vanity devoid of training).

Anyway, and without straining
I grow stronger,
Lists grow longer.
Things I cannot do to date
Will train my patience while I wait for
Only goodness knows, for what!

What I Cannot Do: To Date 5.7.2021 Circling Round More Experience II; Arlene Nover Corwin
2D World Sep 2023
Everybody's living in the fast life trying to afford a Lamborghini
But none of them know about sacrifice because these lambs be greedy
All of them wanna be speedy but their logic exceeds me
And I cannot fathom, just getting mental spasms, thinking of God saying "Look how they treat me"
They look for something easy and affordable so they spend their money on a Prius
And the vehicle is so important to them they can't even spend a second with Jesus
Getting so comfortable in their Toyota they toy over His word and its absurd that these are the same people who call themselves believers
And its grievous, because the whole world is going down the drain
Just shifting into the fifth gear and switching over to the widest lane
Ignoring all the stop signs, and running all the red lights like it was a videogame
Everyone is just so fast and furious with the need for speed with devil behind them in a hot pursuit yet no one's ashamed
See while everyone else drive's like their above everything like their on Saturn's rings I drive like a BMW
And that stands for a Blessed Man Working in faith because when you close your eyes and let Jesus take the wheel the devil can never trouble you
So can you even imagine that there's a Father who stopped you from going off course and Ramming into wall
A Father who helped you Dodge every obstacle, a Father who stands above all
A Father who decorated your interior and only ask for you to come forth and answer His call
A Father you overlooked and tossed aside yet He still picks you up even when you fall
See, we're too ungrateful to understand how privileged we are, but only realize when it's all gone
Do you want to be the Paul who was a slave to Christ or the Paul who crashed and couldn't carry on?
We ask everybody for directions, pull out the gps and forget that He never showed us wrong
God already laid out the track for us, but we freeze like Ice Cubes because we don't have the Hart to Ride Along
See I rather drive a Chrysler in this crisis to seek out the Christless
Now I didn't say ride in a sleigh to see if I'm on Santa's naughty or nice list
Because there's only one with undying love who presented me with the greatest gift
And no one can ever amount to my God who sugar coats nothing and keeps it all explicit
We were meant to love our brothers and sisters the same way we love ourselves right?
So why do we contemplate offering a ride even when our tanks are low? I thought we were supposed to walk by faith not by sight?
Of course we're going to experience a lot of bumps along the way and a few potholes amidst the asphalt
No one ever said this journey was easy, peasy or lemon squeezy, yet we still choose this road and when things get tough say it's God's fault
We move too fast, go past the speed limit, order a recipe for disaster without looking at the cons, and even swallow before we chew
We spend our last, even though we need gas and stuff our faces in sin just to make ourselves look the fool
We pile our plates up high thinking we can stomach everything and even try to consume the forbidden fruit
We need to watch our diets and what we allow to enter our bodies because our body's a temple more precious than a jewel
So many search for soul food others eat Little Caesar's
Not realizing that it was the romans who wanted Barabas over Jesus
And that conundrum was a two piece combo that was able to shake up the whole world
It was like watching the toters coming to the party and wrapping up all your food in ferl
This fast food has us all lost in the flesh all dying because of our fast livin
Eating from the Burger King when it's really the bread of life that has risen that we were given
To feast upon, because this Holy Communion was blood shed and a body broken for us all to live
He was able to feed the five thousand so we should have nothing short of our lives to give
This fast life will **** us all if we don't repent
Time spent feasting with the devil isn't time well spent

— The End —