Sometimes I want to raise my fist in the air. "I'm pissed in a public square!"
Yet I exist, nowhere.
What is fair in this world? Why care when the thought gets hurled into the air, comes unfurled and is met with a blank stare?
Thanks for the look, I guess. No need for me to open the book on stress and cook up another lonely mess. Already took down the best and disturbed the rest. Don't want to destroy what's left of the happiness.
Dressed in a frown. What happens when the unhappy clown comes back to town?
I think he'll drown.
That would be okay. I like swimming and going deep anyway. Skimming the surface is no way to play.
I feel unloved, every day. Even when you're kind I still find myself lost in the world I tried to leave behind.
Am I just blind? Is my mind truly signed on to grind until it unwinds entirely, before I can admire me?
It's a game?
Take a seat and complete me.
Instead they cheat me and beat me. Took an axe to the knee. I'm a tree for the chopping and my blood's free and slopping up the only window left to see through. No time to rewind and review.
No key for the door. Leaving: a chore. My words are a bore? My feelings are just lore?
All washed up on the shore.
Rarely doing my own thing anymore.
Can't win a war if you're dying on the floor.
They're always so happy.
And think mine is fake but I put smiles on faces just to have something to make. Everything they take gets returned. So, why am I the one feeling burned?
Suppose everyone asks that question when it's time to freshen up and have a lesson learning session.
I worked too hard just to have them come say my soul is charred. Entered my yard and played the victim card as if life is so hard they feel others should be scarred for no reason other than it's the season to be a beast and feast on the least of my worries?
Blow everything out of proportion? Pressure me with a form of extortion?
"You should have been an abortion!"
How does one grow so much mold being so cold? Does placing insanity on waivers come with bold fresh new and exciting flavors? Being a dick is the dance and they're the new ravers?
As easy as putting on pants. Being a prick in stride, one leg at a time, they'll prance around making those hateful sounds, but can't even walk the line?
Never again.
Being baited into feeling hated became a trend. Feels like that time you waited for that friend slated to arrive but they never showed up in the end. Rolled up in nothingness. It's all pretend.
On with the show. The remaining few still see my glow. Got this flow that'll help me grow like a snowball. Throw me at the wall and I'll just fly like the crow y'all.
Don't like me, then leave me be. Your problems are yours and one can't reach the plateau by letting others know how low you'll go.
Don't want to be that guy. Feeling good makes me high and I like to share that pie with all the passersby because I'm good at it, in case you're wondering why.
That wannabe hater infamy doesn't please me. Making people think, getting smiles and eyes on the work they can see for miles. That's my honey. Have a drink.
Art without eyes is like walking to the store without thighs and no money.
And isn't it funny? Even with so many trials and people constantly twisting my dials, the days are still sunny and my aisles constantly jammed with new styles.
Energizer Bunny got nothing on me and there are no exiles.
Destroyed profiles are self-inflicted and come with the crocodile tears fully scripted.
Was it a diss? I don't see the point or what they meant when they said I'm such a disappointment. Built myself up from nothing. Now I can push a button that's worth a whole muffin.
So what if it took many years. For the most part it kept me off the beers. Got drunk off those cheers and started to like what I see when I looked in the mirrors.
Not only do I wear it, now I can share it.
Try to take it all away from me? Of course I'll fight.
In the most messed up way, I'll come to you at night. In your dreams I just might shine a light on you until you become bright. Lifting you up until you're in flight while you're kicking and screaming with all of your might at the sight of yourself being frozen with fright!
Then you'll know something isn't right, but that's what you get for fucking with Waksleight.
Have a nice day.
