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American Sin

Living for the present,
Not a future,
Where I don’t exist,
In the lives of my beloved…

Don’t want to be anywhere I’m not wanted.
Spent too many nights under this roof crying over my faucet.
Asking God why he didn’t swing by every time I had lost It,
As a prophet who was prompted to soar above the losses…
Can’t win without losing a few bouts that’ll cost you…
We all sin and need to pay for the nonsense,
We all display from time to time in,
A world burning down by the hatred locked inside of us…

It’s there.
That burning desire to rebel and wear emotions from the “Dark Side…”
Stars at war in a space where our father’s on the far side.
Mother’s smile is marred by,
The struggle of a single mother trying to part ties…
With a plethora of thoughts that revolve around suicide…

Pleasures of the Bronx,
Of course.
Where angels turned monsters have wrought a course,
Of drugs as Sport…
Who isn’t trying to ball and flash bling for more?
Attention we don’t need…
It’s from the Self to see,
How we can all heal our wounds while we bleed,

And we’re all slipping all over this dance floor.
Souless bodies who waltz across the room back and fourth,
With a grin,
A glass to kiss,
And a pretty sharp knife held against your back in case you sprint,
To the front of your class…

Such a bloody red picture representing American Sin…
Exhaustively busy trying to gain the upper hand with your own Trump Card,
Allowed Trump in Office…

Face it!
We’re laced with,
Mere cases,
Of booze to get wasted.
Embracing a blunt for a face lift!
Down on the rocks till you’re caved in,
To a bed where you sleep through the day and,
Blaming a God who you once prayed…

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