Teenage Crises
Death is an empty thing that strikes those who enter life, like screwing a whore with no strings. To sing this song of death to play with wisdom. little understanding of life so I fall short of the kingdom so I, pray to a god that I am not really sure is there so I eliminate the platform which was once there. I have teachers preachers analyzing so they ask if I care, I stare graciously into empty space. I am going to
Kill somebody, stabbing them continously, violently and sacrificing my last bit of crippled dignity, when I burn ferociously, won't even leave catiously. So plea until the oppressor strikes me down and taunts me with death as my salvation. Then I am going do it. Hang myself with contemplating who I am affecting because they'll all be dead.
The last of broken bread, like a jagged egde to my heartless felt life. I strive for nothing so therefore I am nothing.
So even when I recite this poem I stutter. I wish I could smoothe like a hot knife through butter. So these are the last few words that I utter, mutter. Ethically I pay tribute to my mother by why bother
So I leave silently causing no attention to myself or others, in contrast I wait, for my potential ever after, my life its final quarter so I await for my infinite slaughter.
Damn this is the best thing I ever thought of...
Copyright © Simamkele Ndima | Year Posted 2013
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