Underground Madness
this is
the
redefition
of ones
definition
an
undastandin
of
self,fueled
NOT by
raw
uncontrolable
emotion
but by
pure
intuition
a mans'
worth is
weighed
by his
decisions
wat of
those i
make
not for
ma
own?
Intuition
is
thought
without
origin
we
follow
but do
not
question
yet we
do not
face the
truth
a truth
we do
not
know
that we
know
like how
our
hopes
are
dreams
we never
dreamt r
the
choices
we've
made
truely
our own?
Or our
thoughts
just
words
on a
script,
and life
is the
stage
we're on
i dnt
knw
which
page im
on
and the
page
that
follows
seemingly
"unwritten"
bares
faint
imprints
of our
story, ITS
ALREADY
WRITTEN
we're
just doin
the
tracing
so arises
the
question:
if u
didnt
decide
to read
this
and
these
words
were
never
mine to
write
who am
i?
And
even
more
importantly,
who r u?
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