PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I have no dirt on my shoulder, just a few monkeys on my back,

Such as paying six ten's for a bag of some plant,

Or hearing people speak on topics they can't,

Or don't have any right to rant and rave, I can't behave,

I can't be a slave, to these things that, to me, should be gave,

Respect; trust, honesty, just a few I can name,

It's true I'm insane, but you do the same,

Yet you claim to be sane, just to put my name to shame,

Thoughts of your disgust fuels me to find my claim to fame,

And when our path's split, our fork in the road,

I'll double back, payback my friends what I owe,

Make payback a bitch for any one of my foes,

But that's how it goes, when your stubborn it shows,

Mix that with someone who holds, grudges so close,

With just a nudge I'll explode, then you'll be exposed,

To something in me that just continues to grow,

Day after day, then next thing you know,

I'm not the same old soul; just the plain, cold Joe,

Mundane, my brains on hold, listen to what your told,

Once I'm gone there'll be no more sold,

After I was made they threw away my mold.



I am nothing more than a man

You are nothing more than a man

So why is it, you can not understand

Life and death is just part of the plan

And we need not be enemies

But still the fire you fan

With your words for war

You're just wasting your breath

Soon ten years feel like four

And before you know it you'll have nothing left



I have me some time, so I gladly unwind,

I'll gladly define what's on my mind,

If you ask me to find the difference between rhythm and rhyme,

I'll tell you it's all in design, and if I fall and I grind,

To a halt and can't shine, I'll pick myself up and find a new line,

Pick another path to be walked, and I'll just laugh when they talk,

Dress in all black and I'll stalk, break they backs like the incredible hulk,

It's incredible huh, to be un-defendable, rough,

And to know the tricks of the trade,

The slickest of ways, to leave a slit with this blade,

I don't give a shit what you're paid, or where you clothes were made,

We're both human and your not making the grade,

Don't fake like your great, be grateful of what's on your plate,

Hungry mouths run wild, I think like a man, though I look like a child,

My manners are mild; I can't stand to be defiled,

I can't say I don't plan to face trials, so I set a pace all the while

You must have a case of denial, if you say I'm lacking in style,

Face the facts of the file; I'm so hot I leave trails of fire for miles.