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In the house of the living dead wood rats looking to be fed
Wrote this on zig zags retrieved from trash bags filled with bloody rags
Seeping from the veins of junkies kicking the monkey
I said kicking the monkey
In the drippings my feet are slipping it’s the 60’s no bodies tripping
The eye is red the bodies dead
Just liven to be dead
The wall said
Still a child I read
This war this war
Bled us red
This war this war made us dead
Scrawled like scratches the poet wrote and fled I wrote this to be read
In a room she sits on a bed eyes black like raccoon
How can flesh burn when the souls on ice?
Take the pie just save me a slice
I’m not greedy the crumbs will do
Ate beans and rice in the house of YURU
Not a man to my mother
Not a man to my brother
Not a man to my sister
Not a man to this system
Still a child I read while the junkies bled
Flesh won’t burn if the souls on ice
Dad lives in Soledad his type is stereo Huey pours milk on my cereal
I sit on the dirty floor eat some then beg for more
The monsters calling come here girl come here boy speed balling
Eyes like steal marble cold this was a bad scene you know what I mean
2013 WIZE DOM
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