They say I don’t know my place,

Refugee and fugitive am I,

Always looking,

Searching for a way to get by,

Each says my heart is sordid,

Callous soul and mind that’s morbid,

And puppy dogs don’t know my name,

Children small; they feel the same,

I will be the one to blame,

Riding on your novacaine,

Writhing in this soulful shame,

Words attack; they know no penance,

Paragraphs a dark remembrance, rapture,

Wicked rhymes, upbraided tenants

Brittle grime and sated tenets,

Nothing mine, the world’s my rapture that i need and want to capture,

What you want is mine own suture?

Call you out, indeed a savior,

Bringing life unto a stranger,

What we had was Nothing real,

Padded by this life surreal,

can’t believe you didn’t feel,

As you had me on the reel,

Shut your mouth,

While headed south,

Never will you be devout,

Screaming gently i am out.


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