| » Poem: How it is |
How it is
written by Genocide Reaper03:42 PM 3/7/05Such sweet sarcasm coming in folds.
How about you just step back, cauterize your lips maybe that’ll hold idiotic words.
Get wasted, was there something else you thought about tasting?
I’m overly drunk, but Its the finger in the air I want you to see, the one saying “I don’t give a fuck”.
Raped of innocence like us all, just children awakening from sweet dreams.
Here we all are. In a fucking disgraceful world full of atrocious deeds.
We’re all now a part of the sadistic system.
Even if you think you’re out, you’re really in.
There isn’t a point to it, just accept the fact, its already in mid swing.
You spit in my face, mock me all you want, when you turn your back, you’ll feel something hot run through your spine.
Paralyzed by pain, soon the only thing you’ll leave behind is a chalk line and a blood stain.
Its not in my dreams to descend like a bird with broken wings.
In other words.
I’m not leaving my world for yours.
I’m comfortable with my hate.
Its free flowing in my rage.
There’s a little secret in these words I state.
Can you see them?
Or is it you are to blind to fate?
Check yourself in the mirror.
You think you look better.
But from what I see, you’re still lost so I won’t bother.
My hand is retracted.
Fall, fucking fall.
My eyes are upon you.
Fall, fucking fall.
Fail, fucking fail.
Its what you were born to do!
That’s why I’m saying this to you!
Nobody likes a smacked out junkie.
Nobody wants to be around a cracked out flunky.
And not even me look as bad as you, yes and I’m lost in my insanity.
Best serving us in a grave.
Because to those drugs you are a slave. |
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