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Neel Bhatt Poem
Some people are afraid of going outside,
Because they messed up and they have no guide
Prowling dogs, waiting, watching for a time to strike,
They’re just trying to buy themselves a motorbike
All the hate, where does it come from, Insecurities?
Maybe we all have a false sense of security?
But how will we know if the only side we see
Is the media with their far-fetched hyperboles
Death is right outside of my door
The only way I’m avoiding it is staying in my drawer
People seeking me out to get famous
Sometimes I think all of this is contagious
One falls and then another and another
All I wanted to see was my little brother
What do they get out of it except to say
That was me, the one with a gun on Champs-Élysées
Let’s take, for example, a rapper with a few tattoos
Only trying to tell us “live the life that we choose”
He became so famous he told everyone to look at him
They sure did, gunned down on a whim
LLJ, the rapper from Plantation
Is now being ferried by Charon
Death is right outside of my door
The only way I’m avoiding it is staying in my drawer
People seeking me out to get famous
Sometimes I think all of this is contagious
I know you were struggling your whole life with jealousy
But I just want you to know you left a legacy
Copyright © Neel Bhatt | Year Posted 2019
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Details |
Neel Bhatt Poem
It was 10 o'clock on a poorly lit street
Nighttime breezes, very cold out there
Freezing temperatures that brought much despaired
As a man walked out, onto the street
About 5’7” with curly blonde hair
He confronted another man
Wearing a royal blue fedora
Giving off, a mysterious aura
They both exchanged sacks of something unknown
Very secretive as they set the tone
They both walked off, opposite directions
Police cars arrived, but too late for inspections
Copyright © Neel Bhatt | Year Posted 2019
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