The diary of a fiend

Reality

I wanna be a writer
A poet.
I'm special.
Motherfucker
I know it.
I don't care what other says.
I have something wondrous to tell you one day.
It's a story about a boy growing up in the 530
A little hick ville but with a ghetto that no one knows.
Selling gems on the street
With a piece
Strapped to me.
Sadly though...
It was my choice to go to the trap house
And tell them I wanna know.
Now I have horrors and such.
Night terrors always keeping me up.
Insomnia is a bitch
Voices in my head saying shit.
"You should kill the little bitch"
No I'm not like this!
I've changed.
She came around and made feel better
About these days
She opened up and showed me why
Roses seem to open my mentality
They clear my mind.
But she never told me to water it from time to time.
And little did I know.
The voices came back
Telling me new rumors
That I should know.
"Love is a fiction
You been acting like a dip shit
Little fucker
Crying in the corner
going all ape shit."
You need to stop
You're not apart my mind
I know this because of time
That's the thing that seems to affect me
The fact that I can never progress
With me
I move but I stay.
Tell me.
Does that make sense to you
In your brain?
You try explaining that to your girlfriend
Of seven days
When you are having a shouting match
At the mirror
On the date day.
People know.
That's the thing about it.
But do they care?
I don't think anyone really cares that I share.
So let me tell you again.
I wanna be a writer.
A poet.
I'm special.
And motherfucker.
I know it.
I'm gonna write you stories that'll progress
Far from your mind
And make you wonder
About your subconscious.
I'm gonna make you think
Make you speak
Make you wonder
If this generation really needs help
To get up from the undertow
That we've been sucked under.
I'll be the voice you need
Tell me your worries little boy
I'll be the one to speak.
Make them think
Make them blink
Open their minds
To words they never understood but
Thought they could hide all the time.
With that picket white fence.
That blocks away the courage.
To make any fucking progress.that doesn't lack the time.
Revolution.
It sounds like I screaming
But I'm just saying.
I hate to know there is a little boy out there.
Who is living the life like me.
I was so young,
Can't you see?
Now I just wish I could end all poverty.
There you go.
You got a story.
You got a first hand look at the man.
Jonah N. Amoré.
Remember that name
It'll be the reason why you can sometimes relate
To the world today.