PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

bein' alone with my thoughts, that’s my own personal hell
no wonder mom and dad convinced I need professional help
meanwhile, the air’s getting staler, sicker than Vlad the Impaler
this girl is fit like she's tailored, and I just want to impale her
and nail her and maybe regale her with a tale or two,
a sick and sordid affair, yeah that’s the tale of my youth
harried and scared of the truth, and very wary of you
unfairly comparing myself to Mr. Magoo
what it do, baby boo, hoo, you need to quit crying kid
it's not like you grew up poor or surrounded by violence,
my right mind, I can’t find it, the shine, my memory’s blinded
I forgot what my line is, I need to be reminded
another day goes by, sidesteppin' the pain
count the hours, that’s another 24 down the drain
that’s just more of the same, steadily losing my way
riding the pines like a veteran who just lost his game
call me Juwan Howard, call me Tracy McGrady,
call me a coward, I’m exactly as the Lord made me
this is what the world made me, a shady container
of creativity and malice and lust and anger and talent
and flesh and blood, I’m a man with no plans, and too much time
on his hands, that’s a bad mix, dangerous equation,
temporary high, always chasing that elation
sick of being patient, and putting up with this fake shit
I’m packing my bags and making my way to the station
need to increase my concentration if I’m ever gonna make it
take it one step at a time, this ain’t no nickel and dime
I’m already this dope and not even close to my prime yet