To explain how I feel
don’t know where to start.
Friends and family are fake
but emotions are real.
So much bottle up inside
it’s making me ill.
But its’ time to tip over the bottle
and let it spill
and lay it out on the the table.
To start expressing, I don’t if I’m able
but I will try my best
and this is not a fable.
Well lets just say there is a thin line
between love and hate
and I cross over the line
back fourth like
I’m playing jump rope.
My emotions is not a dirty body
that could get washed away with soap.
I am starting to lose hope
Why I should I fight
When I can jump of the
Throng Neck bridge and Die?
Why should I cry
I since don’t know how to
since I keep everything bottle up inside?
I hide whats inside to protect the outside.
Getting tired of being told what to do.
On my mind,two words on it is “Fuck You“
I rather be isolated.
The nice guy in me is slowly dying
Have to the mind set to commit a homicide.
Fuck it,If I love you,I rather see you die
then ask forgiveness later
Build up with such much anger.
My mind is in danger
and its killing me slow like lung cancer.
I look in the mirror and ask myself
“Am I a murder?”
“Am I a serial Killer?”
“Will I be the black version of Adolf Hitler?”
I had a dream one time
that my soul went to hell.
So might as well give my soul to sell
I can be the devil’s ‘Michael’
one of his arch demons.
Evil should be my focus
and I should spread it
and make it contagious
like farmers going through a famine
because of locusts.
When I try to do good I can’t stay focus.
Maybe evil is my calling.
Every baby aborted
I wish I could trade lives
with.World full of hypocrites
that are only kind for their own benefits
and I can’t stand it.
Relationships is rare like job benefits.
Nobody now hires full time
and this is how I view relationships
because people only want the benefits
but won’t make scarfices to commit full time.
I rather be lonely forever.
I though by the age of 28
I would be alone
but still stuck at home.
This right here is more than a poem
I needed to write this because
I am in the zone.
I can relate to all the sad songs
while writing this poem.
Held on things for so long.
I ready to release like ejaculation.
Fuck my concentration
I am almost starting to give up on praying
I won’t lie and be hypocrite
I do believe there is a God
but I gave up going on church a long time ago
“The one that invite you to church are the ones
that wanna see you in hell.”
The gate is wide
and the fake angels will smile wide
when they say hi
but deep down they despise
looking in your eyes.
I know this so I trust no one
Show love to no one
because love will get you killed
and LLPhate you make you live.
“We eat more than we can shit.”
I ponder because I have two hands
juggling everything you can imagine.
It’s like I drink 10 glasses of water
but still dehydrating.
Does reading this sounds devastating?
Now how the fuck you think I feel?
This pain is real
This poem is selfish.
My feelings I choose to conceal but
I was told that was selfish.
I will say I am a talented poet
but that’s because I have hidden emotions
disguised as love which is really hate.
“I feel like Eve
because I have been deceived
by so many serpents
and yet I get punished
suffering the consequences
of others being persuasive.“
Have you been in debt
or almost went to jail
because of somebody’s actions?
It’s a tragic and another life lesson
I learned at 23.
“There are criminals in society
and innocent ones in the penitentiary.”
Being naive will have serving a sentence
for not using common sense.
I’m gonna reiterate and capitalized this shit
“BE NAIVE WILL HAVE YOU SERVING A SENTENCE
FOR NOT USING COMMON SENSE.” – David Hocakday
‘Proud To Be An American”
Lmao yeah right
This country is fucking racists.
This is not a place for the poor.
Every year we struggle
more and more
don’t keep up with the cost of living.
Am I better off in prison?
The meals are for free
The weights are for free
Besides there nothing on TV
thanks to social media.
I am satisfied with my jobs
but problem is I can’t afford a living
with both my jobs.
I tired of asking money from my mom
I am almost 30
yet I still feel like a 3 year old.
Do my parents have to hold my
hand while I cross the street?
is that I’m to the point where I’m almost
ready to give up and live on the street
since I love being lonely.
I only feel peace when I sleep
or when I masturbate when I’m horny.
I said earlier that I am a talented poet
because of hidden emotions.
So my question is
will have another poem left in me
after this get uploaded?
I will upload a part 2 and maybe a part 3 sometime this week