Poetry, I’m Sorry.

Poetry.
I’m sorry that some taint your heartwarming palms with Deceit…
Canting deceit some sugarcoat as Social Justice in order to reach a certain feat…
A feat like,
How many records have they sold?
Or,
How many hits can they make in a row?
Or,
How much money can they make until they lay in Gold,
Or…
I can go on and on,
And on…

But,
Still.
I hold on to you as strong as ever.
Never will I leave you while others attempt to severe,
Your existence with,
Ignorance displayed through fashions of a devilish nature…

It wears me out.
Dresses my face with a small amount of doubt.
But,
I rise in the name of a stanza that I shout!
From the bottom of my heart.
Blood,
Sweat and tears
Nights where I pout.
And,
Still reach out to you while I’m floating with our Clouds…

After all,
It’s what you’re all about,
Being honest with yourself…
Being open in world closed off by the Fires of Hell,
I put out with my tears whether or not it’s a cry for help…

But,
Some use it as a chance to sell.
A chance to tell stories full of lies through a cell,
They grip with every inch of love coursing through their bodies…
So much so,
A different character emerges from a pile of Ash they begin to embody…

Now,
It’s a party.
On stage,
Flapping gums to floss each,
Moment they get to brush off thee,
Hurting souls with bleeding wounds left hanging while rushing back to their car seats.
Paid!
Out the scene,
Shoes bloody while listening to Cardi…

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