Fuck the world

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I've been loved, I've been neglected.
I've been accepted then rejected.
The ones I loved, the ones I tried to protect, the ones I couldn't detect.
I've been tested and expected to do great things. And yet I fail at the simple things.

No one saw the scar on my wrist.
Yet when someone else has one, they all turn around angry and pissed.
So I'm starting to thing "do I really want them to know?"

My ex girl didn't even notice. guess that just shows how much she cared.
I could have said so many things, yet I kept them spared.

Fuck your perfection.
All you have is this crazy obsession.
You tried to fight this depression,
All I asked was one session.
All I wanted was to stop it's progression.
But you couldn't live with my perfection.
But maybe I failed to mention that I have needs and feelings to, your not the only one.
You just carried on like it was a game. Like you did it for fun.
And while you where doing that I was fighting and I eventually won.
Now I can get through the night to see the sun.

What we need is a reason to fight.
Because we all deserve the right.
The right to see the sunlight.
Yet you deal with maybes and mights.
That isn't a good enough reason to cause a blight.
Your not blind, you have your own sight.
But tonight, I won't live in fright.
I'll soar as high as a kite.
And if you stand I'm my way, is you who I'll smite.
It's been a pleasure. An absolute delight. But you gotta fix yourself, at least I can say that I tried.

But I really did try.
I spent my fair share of nights crying.
And you still sit there, lying, defying, denying.
So I refuse to listen.
I can't sit here and reminisce.
I do ask my self how we ever can to this.

This is my last resort.
So I cannot stress the import.
I have to get these words out of my mouth, export.
But this is how I was raised. How I was taught. I was always a zero or a naught.
I was a little bit of a retort.
I always messed around like it was a sport.
But I cannot stress it enough.
I've been through enough stuff to know where this is going,
And it really hurts knowing.
Is it really showing?
I can feel my anger growing, and that's the hard part.
You tore out my heart.
And you just put it there and threw darts at it.
So I guess that's just it.
Talk shit, get hit.

Not physically,
But mentally
And emotionally.
Verbally.
You started this, you deserted-me
I told you before,
I'm not gonna listen anymore.
So it's my turn to settle the score.
It's my move,
And I've got a lot to prove
So "dude, don't ruin my groove"
I've got nothing to loose
But it's my turn to choose.
Who is right and who is wrong.
Where I do and don't belong.

Days will come and go.
I will live each day, knowin'
That I won't be the one showing.
We loved and we lost.
And we knew the cost.
We didn't know what we were doing we just tossed.

I'm not complaining.
I'll be remaining,
Staining your name with the blood from my veins.
It really does cane.
It's plain and simple.
You board that plane, it's bound to go down.
You won't reach the ground,
Safe and sound.
Is that you? Or is that my demons, scraping and pounding.
I heard the bell, it's the final round.
And you the so called, "the world renowned champ."
And about Courtney. She was never a rebound. I cared about her more than I did you, at one stage.
So many pages have been torn. So many things, we have worn.
So many innocent children are being born.
So many people filled with nothing but hate and scorn.

I'm finally seeing why people say I'm good at this.
Some will think that I'm no better than piss,
But I'll give those people a miss.
Do you ever reminisce?
Our first kiss was wondrous and bliss.
But now-a-days Id rather give it a miss.

I'm sorry, I don't care anymore.
I'd love to find you on the floor,
I'd love to explore your, so called more.
But I'm truly sorry but the party's over.

A plastic smile,
To match your style.
All the while,
I pile the pages and pages of note.
All of my broken dreams and hopes.

I'm going insane.
I don't think I'll ever be the same.
I can see my old self going down the drain, but I'm not doing anything to save him.
That's probably because no one would crave him.
It's not up to me, I couldn't do it
And everyone knew it.
I had a chance and I blew it.
This is the hand I've been dealt do chew on it, and spit it out.
Because I'm not about to give in,
That would just be a parting sin.
You'd already have thrown me in the bin.
When I die, it will be up to the next of kin.

I'll never be as good as slim shady or tupac.
All I really do is run amok
And act cool like saying "fuck"
At least I'll admit.
Oh shit, is that the time?
I gotta stop this rhyme.
I crossed the line 1, 2, 3, 4 times!!!!
I'm sorry, it's in my sublime.
It's not a crime but im off goodnight.

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