Worthless Writings
I am not ready to die mediocre
I bargained my soul with the devil
to roll the dice of life again in October
they said my heart must be tainted by evil.
the bar raised low, to fake a smile on my face
to liberate myself from the pain and to sing along
to follow the god who barely cares to show his grace
believed in fate for long floating in the cloud 9s, so long.
Tired of the chorus it is hard to focus in all this hocus pocus
I have had it running on the side walks for 27 years in solitude
aggression in expression among my rhymes venting in tiny doses
8 miles of my worthless writings is an add-on to my egoistic attitude.
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