Swishers & Stressors
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Staring at my reflection
examining the main
intersection of perception
Continous cry for acceptance
Going straight to voice message
Memories of them days I felt Worthless
9 years old
With a firey soul
Writing my curses
in cursive script
As I sit in silence
With closed eyelids
Acknowledge
A Savage in the night
Pacifist by day
So He prays
For
His
Prey
And then those
prayer hands
split to fist
Pretty ass backwards
But Consume the fumes
from these backwoods
block out the tunes
Of these rappers
intuned
with the chapters
of revelations
Analyzing the pages
Seeking my own interpretation
Refrain from
miseducation
Distance myself
from the tv stations
Tellin
lies
to
my
Vision
Searching for
deeper intuition
Cries of an artist
Struggling to
stay Conscious
while caught
in midst of lies
Tryin not to give in
feelin like
a cloud
of
contradiction
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