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When I cry, I think about what made me turn away-
From the perfect life I coulda had, cradle to the grave
Enabling a way to find desire in the deepest chasms
Under where I'd label days, prior I was fetus challenged
Grasping on to every young minute, that I needed love
Cos when my breath was lost, I was infinitly bleeding cuts-
Of mistakes my mother made, with drinking and drugs
Thinking woes that fucked me up, & I was thinking love
Then my muse wouldn't speak, and so I eluded it
Until it eventually caught me, cos the fuse was lit
Not to mention the fuse on the cigarette lighter
The incest; my beauty, for the picket fence inside her-
Was molesting my soul, the son deeming his mother-
Who forgot to tell her lover, that 'he' needed a rubber
So now I'm passing by like space, beyond the Orion
Who'da thought that I'd die before I saw the horizon
So Now I'm kept in a womb, rotted, please hug me, and well..
All that's left is the question, why the ugliest hell?
The ugliest dwell, raped out of sorrow, give or take a few
My short lived life, was proud enough, in a different place I knew-
Of a room so abstruse, where many of my kind await-
To proceed as the evils of the blinded human race..
I'm the line that's traced; snorted, the pornos recorded
The injections, the bloodshed 'n mayhem, babies aborted
The foolish, those craving to protect our insecurity
The blue-esque shaded scenery, embedding this fear in me
The Chains on slaves, the waves of taunts towards Jesus
The red, the white and the who wants more freedom
The Kingdom, religion, Middle East, hate and bombings
The rape, the states, inside me raged a mental promise
Then the cigarette and pill had an astounding effect
As smoke then formed a halo, as it wrapped around my neck
I accept what you did girl, but imma ride alone now
I died in your world, but I survive in my own now
Just barley............................. .......................
So now when I cry, what I think about, is how I'm grateful-
For the perfect life was flawed, well just in the cradle.
Topic: you survived the end of the world...
what do you do next?
__________________
"True poets don't write with a pen, they write with the ink that flows from within their hearts"
- anon
Last edited by Khôi NguJin; 05-12-2004 at 11:39 PM.
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