Were all trapped in a glassed world of peoples expectations,
Peering out of my window with mesmerization.
Written on my face-Your disgrace.
Misplaced the one thing I gave you - My faith.
It doesn't matter how I came here or how I died;
What matters is that I survived-
Day by day, knowing that you lied.
Buzzin
Some nerdy exploits and even more life experiences Enjoy!
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
A Strong Feeling
Hovering around my head was a baleful bird
Ate my passion to love
Tearing all of my heart into pieces
Enveloping me in a cape of obscurity
Tweet
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Utopia, yeh?
Everything is as it’s supposed to be,
In this place with no fears,
No crying, no tears, no more nightmares.
Unicorn feathers on the floor
Bend down and discover more
Lead me down a trail of crumbs;
End up at a house filled with bums.
Let us leave this place.
Gloomy and almost out of sight,
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Old stuff from the MC days...
I’m never startled never shaken and I always stir up trouble when I go places
I kick up dust when I leave but they’ve always told me to kick rocks
Instead I live like an avalanche of boulders like a tumbling hail storm during the harvest season that causes a shortage of crops
My flow’s nicer than Thor’s golden locks
But I'm just a stringless violin told I'll never be a part of the orchestra
I sometimes question the reason for my existence
I’m reckless but not wreck less
There are many scratches and dents on this automobile of flesh and bones
Nothings worse than feeling like you don’t belong
Like you don’t even got a home, I live on the road, the Road to Zion
I've got a carburetor in my cranium and as long as there’s drive in my chest then Ima ride on
It’s always nighttime but my lights off
I don’t need them to see where I’m going I’m going to where the bright lights are
That’s why I always bleed my heart out onto the paper when I write songs
That’s why I always rhyme on till my saliva’s gone past when my throat’s sore even when the mic's off
But when I lay my head to sleep I dream of seven seven headed beasts seven days a week
My heart pounds like the rumbling of thunder sweat pours off me like rain makes my clothes moist I can’t move as if held by bolts
I’m alone, but I don’t know if it was my choice or yours
I look around it’s a nice day, sunny, shows how dilapidated the buildings are, funny, just like my soul
I feel the fabric of my shirt, its devoid of fluid, huh who knew a stringless violin could make such beautiful music
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