Chopping Away At Damaged Wood
Chop Chop Chop
Differences in swings
Chop Chop Chop
Change up the tempo
Chop Chop Chop Chop
Ill make a difference in them
Chop Chop Chop
If I trim a couple of edges itll be perfect
Chop chop chop
They’ve been my friend forever
Chop chop chop
Well I’ll go out with them once it’ll be fun
Chop Chop Chop
Why does this feel so good
Chop Chop Chop
Just one more hit, it’s just to relate to them
Chop Chop Chop
Im only trying to help, I’m just doing God’s work
Chop chop chop
What has happened to me?
Chop Chop
Why do I feel so dull?
Chop
Why do I hurt?
Chop
Stops
Your axe is dull
Nulled by the continuous swings at your joy
Your peace
Sweet release from small victories of
“I have no one else”
“You mean so much to me”
It’s all a plea to search for something that they long for
Because of comfort?
Because of formalities?
The struggles that we face
Are a result of the people we embrace.
So you replace His grace with their embrace
And by doing so you lose traction of your place trying to affect them
But in turn falling to the misery and infecting yourself with change
To disarrange your being,
your personality
It’s the analogy of “Iron sharpeneth iron”
But now the iron is dull,
The Damascus has lost its edge
Because of supplemental wetrock
When we chop into the wood of people
And we chop and chop to find worth
but in the end, they’re the ones that get hurt
by dulling yourself and damaging them
condemning the Idea of ever being loved again
So then you try and make it work,
And result in settling for less
So you digress the values of manhood
and add the boys who only get with girls to hide their insecurities.
Minus the beauty stolen from girls who add make up to make up, of who that guy wants them to be,
that double negative alone, equals a positive pregnancy.
And so she carries the baby along because that boy was reduced to a coward.
So his whole life ended up being devoured, now she can’t sleep at night because she cries for hours,
don’t you see this equation is missing a higher power.
And so I plea with desperation in my words,
To be able accept that people change for better or for worse
But to know the difference can cost you your worth.
Copyright © Aaron Mcintosh | Year Posted 2019
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