my mind ain't mine my prides been shattered
i can barely sift through my clothes torn tattered
imangine being battered broken over words spoken
i'd give my last breath to no longer be the token
left alone in my room barely alive much less coping
no room for love no time for hoping
seeing the fragile victims of violence conquers the man in me
the insanity of brutal acts of christians unspoken vanity
unstable life has us all restless and panicking
we all suffer under the thumb in this land of free
see, it's a sad state of affairs that has left us reeling
subjugated under imperialistic thoughts with no feeling
resorted to inhumane pacts and facts of the unwilling
pressure to become a slave to what you were dealing
understand this sick and pyscopathic ruse i'm brooding
my methods crude i choose to lose it
i capture the very essence each fucking thougth and nuance
i went from manic depressive to an ordinary nuisance
praying people perfect passiveness from prudence
i passionately defect from you ordinary type of music
my love for rhyme is born from me as fluid
prophiits dead he could never do it the way i could do it

signed,

THE DEAD POET