if we don’t suffer, we don’t need God,
this pain is like an inch away from being worse,
why God, must I ache,
can I not reach high any longer?
Do I pour my heart and say,
The things which on my mind,
Do not unwind and just decay,
Day by day.
Every moment passing,
A thought is caged into my heart’s
caverns, wherein blood boils,
not as freely as it should,
hot and bubbly, burning hell,
anger at its finest, why does it hide?
Can I not shout aloud and curse the world,
if this is art I’m free!
I’m free to curse anybody.
This is art I’m free. This is art I’m free.
Music is your enemy, give me a pen,
I will write a eulogy devoted to one of them,
the cowards who devoured my heart,
spat on my shoes and acted confused,
when little did they know, a gangster appeared,
fingers pointed at you he said,
what you gonna say now bitch?
the tides have turned on you.