I Don'T Want To Sink the Boat
I'm filling my self with void serum
The void is so loud there's voices but no body else can hear them
I'm sleeping a lot and drinking venom
I'm locked up, jailed in my own prison
I'm losing my glow, I have no rhythm
I don't even know why this poem is written
I don't even know why I'm still living
I don't know why I don't want to give in
Why this life I'm given
Why I'm sinning
Why there's hell
Why there's heaven
Why every line I write worsens my condition
Why am I asking too many questions
I have a confession, I have depression...
I'm tired of not being taken seriously
I'm tired of waiting impatiently
I'm tired of trying to shoot and rise aimlessly
I'm tired of having a fighter's mentality but the body of a crook
I'm tired of being shook every time I hold the pen and try to finish a book
I hate the sad days
I hate the days I sit in my room alone with a haze and gaze to the ceiling; thinking about different ways to cut the plays and end this drought and phase.
Get up and raise the stakes; kick ass and take some names, reach the clouds and make some rains
I want to admit, I've been sad for some time
I'm only nineteen, I should be in my prime
I want to stop constantly thinking about rhymes to write some lines and express my mind
And no matter how much I grind I'll always fall behind
In my room I sit in the corner
I don't talk to my family cause I feel like a foreigner
And when I die, I'll have a date with the coroner
They'll talk about my evil, my demons and my failure
Don't mistake this for a death note
This is a poem, a dead man wrote
I am going to jump, I don't want to sink the boat.
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