FAÇADE
I don’t know if I should say I’m on my grind or living on a dime.
Every time it’s the same old rhyme.
I’m living a lie, no need to cry.
As I fly I die inside knowing the pain inside is spreading like poison, in fact, its mold because I’m old.
I was told by the unforetold that I would be towed by the winds of chance, but as I glance I realize that such words should have been unspoken.
I’m living a lie, no need to cry.
DEATH TO MY FRUSTRATIONS
If you die today
No one would care
If I cry today
No one would dare
Ask me if I’m ok
It’s funny
Cause they always call me
Trying to fool me
This isn’t the cool me
I’m no longer your tool
Hand me the glock, BOOM
Death to my frustrations
I’m in a tornado storm
Of misbehavior
Don’t save what cannot be rescued
Hand me the glock, BOOM
Death to all my frustrations
You can no longer rule me
No longer a fool
Throw away the spool
No longer your thread
Go ahead and tread
Stomp the ground
Make all kinds of sounds
You’re dead to me
See, I’m flying free
About the Creator
Crown Nobl3
Poetry is my silent voice.
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