cliffonedge

3600

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Maniac

CATEGORY

life

I going crazy and you know why? I'm trying to figure out who made these rules? I hate picking sides. I'm just trying to live, give, and recieve my gifts, but no acre and mules. I look and search for the tools so I won't have to kiss any stools or be regulated like in schools. Wanting to be free and have a fine lady with me smiling because she respects me and checks when my ambition gets low. I know of the pope, and I know of the throat, I know of the voice that is all in my ear all for a tear from my face. The decisions of the soul powerful enough to change whole worlds. I saw my baby girl... well she's really my niece but I love her like a daughter and would kill for her father. No cover for myself no help to get to my wealth I feel alone on this throne made for drones and robot programmed my no not because they no nothing. Bleeding for riches and gold when gold will go. When can you tell a women you love her glow and she not walk away not knock you a way deep inside her so you can see more. I have sores from this world in my heart and it hurts everyday so I spray these letters together and try to make it better but it hurts so much I feel like loving is wrong. I am a maniac because I love as hard as I can with every inch of my own soul. Where that will allow me to go...in my opinion to obtain something different a flow clean because everyone elses water is dirty, gritty with the concrete they've been fed. I pray to god to give me bread and they call me a maniac.

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COMMENTS


		love_supreme says: Wow, this is a very powerful poem. poems by this commentor Taste out your mouth Real Enemy What is this?

OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY cliffonedge

Driven (Haiku)

Vehicle charged mind

off the ambition he seeks.

Positivity.

Attitude Latitude (Haiku)

Attitude the key

Attitude Latitude key

Attitude is me.

High School (Haiku)

Here we go again.

Vice, virtue. Emotional

These times made concrete.

Be Safe

Backshots, one night. Lies
â€‹Blurred vision liquor mouthfuls
â€‹Infidelity

If It Ain't Poop, What Is It

I see the classes educating on candy. The sugar of the wealthy look thirsty while camping. Under the influence of booze on the midnight sky. The melodic rise under wraps because it leads to their demise. A Circle made life, revolution made wife, only bowing and not humble. The kids cry ready to fight but quick to stumble. We are at the caves of our disease.The places in which we're living. The filthy stinch of everything global makes us all minimal. Basking in the rememberance I see the doctors of our past Sebi, King, and Garvey, did not ride on Harley's wheeling themselves to destiny's table. It is only in death that they remembered and labled. A holiday...or a rest in peace moment. Not potent. The onlookers disown it while the other side tries to clone it. Underserving of the thrones they get. Sold on "legit" ish as wholesale. Sometimes it seems we are just another sale leading to a hole. Now if that aint poop.... well what is it?

Only In Time

When love has the upper hand. You relax. When the world has the upper hand. Sit back. When the universe has the upper hand... achieve balance and be exact... I sit and look sometimes as the slow grind of the social torture impales my mental. Tarnishing and tainting me. I scream for better words on these curbs where I'm planted. Begging for water the nourishment seems to vanish. The human touch has been rough with the dirty hands of greed and the social divide jealousy brings. I long for the pleasent feeling of realness. I long for a age... I search for the page of sweet smeeling agrreance as the rythmatic melo tones are demonstrated in the walk we have and what we say. All of this negativity hurts to much. They say to be different but they put us all in a bunch bundled and fumbled dropped then stopped right in our tracks. I pray for the pressure to subside but I realize this can happen only in time.

Real Man

Melodic. Timeless. Famous. Spotless. No blemish unless you see the blood smeared on the bones buried under my skin or the system I fight endlessly trying to win. I'm conscience I can breathe but I'm still sometimes blinded to the point I can't see. Info reds on my back I feel the burn of the stares but yet I'm the flare for all my peers. The complete balance is what I seek so I knock constantly trying to tear the door down to make my mother proud and the receiver of my hard work because of her hardwork. Inert never as times goes by I desperately see the jewls when I talk to the sky. Trying so patiently to become a better man. A real man....

The Perfect Competition (You)

The Perfect Competition in rare form. I looked bored. The competitive spirit I've heard and felt of. Special in its way it can never decay. It can only be repeated. Demonstrated for knowledge and never neglected it's selected as the biggest and baddest thing that stands in your way. Will you jump over the wall of self doubt to embrace the fullness deep in your south? Deep in your loins? Deep in your land? So that then you will never be torn apart again. They say the greatest version of a man self is one he will admit to. So I throw myself to the perfect competition for a breakthrough. Well really a take through of my life up until now and looking into the mirror I know where the greatest victory can be found. In conquering self.

Me (MindFull)

I sit and write loving it, living it, feeling it, sealing it and killing it embraced by the rebirth of every new day. Black man, black man is what my mind screams be like God until it's etched in your seams. Walk up right closest to the heavens you know best. Be above the stigma of statistics be eleven so they don't even mention you. Still stuck on ten.. be great. Win. Then grin because humble only leads to less mumbles. Be the silent victory while everyone screams. My mindset continues to tell me to just be me.

Mellow Drive

Searching for balance. Reaching for challenge. Serving whats passive with a smile and a glare. I hold fair for redemption's reign to rain on me so that the smooth grooves of my universe may be free. Distilled I am pure purely searching for a calm resistance to assist me with no more war. No more forwards marching in disbelief. Allow the strong muscles of loins to be enough to resist all these hard days as I work towards my gift. Mellow Drive, mellow drive be safe to my soul as I go through this life you are what I long to behold. Calm and smooth. Mellow drive.