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First hand experience
Last minute deal
One last tear before I hit this blunt and leave.
I gave up my last right some years ago.
Fists balled, feet planted eyes yelling nothing but anger.
I feed off of it
And empty out realness.
The things that I feel the need to say becomes something amazing
I have no training this is all built up anger.
And instead of me lashing out at just one person I choose to lash out at the world….
My story has been told in many ways then one.
My tears have formed bodies of water that has been seen from one country to another.
Words so simple it should be crime…a sin, I am a rookie at what I do yet still I am progressing.
I hold no titles and no claim to what I do or say.
I was told that it was all but ok to follow my first mind…I should be following my second….
[Clears throat]
Earth cracking underneath my feet, dirt creeping between my toes as I bury my feet into mother earths throat.
She’s been giving me nothing but grief since I came to this place.
And now I am about to give her all types of hell today.
I am tired of all of the heartache and the pain.
The doubt that I hold weighs heavy on my brain.
My body is tired and wore out from the fight.
But being the man that I am I refuse to let go.
Please excuse the fact that I am far from traditional
The older I get my words tend to shift
Like a body of water my words flow like the wind, it chooses its direction and refused to be stopped.
Like a branding stick I am out to stamp my name on the asses of the asses that feels the need to still doubt my creative style.
I am a new type of new.
There is no name to what I do.
I write because it is the only way I can keep my hand from off the throats of my enemies.
I write because it is my way of speaking my mind
My mind is more twisted then a twisted vine.
It holds the power to make or break the tides to my creative side and my sanity.
And if I cried today…
I will probably be gone by tomorrow.
Yet still in the end I will make sure that there is at least one person who remembers me.
