ill give open mic another try now that there is a new rule.....hopefully people dont sleep. and hopefully people actually read it

i posted this up a while back but i re-did it. i think its alot better now. some of the parts are the same but most of its diffrent.

the lost identity cant tell friends from enemies
the mask is slowly stabbing but he cant set it free
he used to be the king of the mother fuckin streets
till he got impeached his first taste of defeat
he seem to weep alone in streams self pity
cause he used to be a thug but its felling shity
in obscurity he’s afraid to reach his final peak
antisocial poet most have never heard him speak
he seeks society but it seems to far away
so he reaches out in songs so people feel his pain
he tried to make a change but the sorrow still remains
living in this game just trina find a better way
everday waking up before sun rise
checking if he still alive but wishing that he died
why does my life coniside with these struggles
i tried to muffle scream and my tears but its clear
if i hold them in my pain wont ever dissapear
dear life i write this letter hoping you get better
in the sun shine no more stormy weather
what ever happenes to me i just want you know
let the addilesenace grow like a seed to a rose
at time life get hard but you cant let it go
thorns bring pain but the rose is still beautiful