Phorget My Offer, It Would Be Easier To Teach Third Graders Than You Third Rate Poets

i WONDER IF I SHOULD WANDER THE WOODS I’m talking to you about a young white boy wandering bad neighborhoods You never warned me about the wolves in the woods You simply walked me to the middle and you left without a word and You didn’t tell me how to wage a war without armaments, or an army not to harm me So there I was to either waste away or war with the weather Storms and torrential downpours are just something to beat yet it’s destruction and death I’m forced to defeat or battle back in the bleakness of horrid heat To win over the phrightening and phrigid phiascoes i phace the rain with its virgin drops and ungodly wind And it ain’t going to do me no good to start having contrition now because it's evident i've sinned You never phorecasted a phorest philled with phiends and phear You stealthily took off and left me there Alone again to find a way to find what I need most A forest in which I had to fend for myself And defend myself I looked out for snakes that slither the city sidewalks hawking their wares The ones like me with needles and need You didn’t tutor me on how to feed myself or find shelter because money is a thing of the past Since every vagrant penny goes up and in my arm You didn’t explain how easily my physical being could meet Hell or come to harm Walking into a trap because the man says he’s got that which I am there to buy Then he puts a gun to my head the minute he closes the door And the money that was supposed to buy me peace becomes no more The woods, the phorest, the darkest avenues of avid scum out to avenge something or someone because in the woods there are a lot of hungry people and others who can live on revenge alone for what someone else has done And in the phorest there are varied types of phuit growing on trees that tremble for my trouble But not one tree opted to shade me from the sun or not to be withered by the wind And the birds of prey that come in packs praying that death be mine You never told me about the darkness with a tunnel baring no exit of any kind For we were none so blind You left me here with society’s victims who all wanted the same thing A way to wage a war, a way to weather a storm, some hope and thirteen bags of dope a day When you put that first needle in my arm you knew it was a scary slope and that I would conquer or fall Yet and still you thought I knew it all Doing what needs to be done and done for good However here I am again, still searching for powdered peace in a bad neighborhood © 2011.….~free cee!~