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Yesterday I took a moment of time,
To think of something to write about,
To think of words that rhyme.
Spent a couple of minutes until I understood,
Poetry isn’t all about rhymes.
Then I thought about how they did it in the hood,
The Harlem renaissance, the good old times.
They wrote it from the soul,
That’s what I’m gonna do.
Speak my heart out,
Rhyming, we’re through.
So I thought about what bugged me, deep inside
Something that tore me inside out,
A little, itchy feeling that I hide
Then it hit me.
People don’t really like me,
I’m the guy they see in the hall,
And say stuff behind me.
I suck at relationships,
I piss people off.
I’m just a loner,
Who sits in a corner and coughs.
When I talk to a person,
I see them getting mad.
Every word I say,
Makes the situation a little bad.
People think I’m selfish,
I think I’m a little elfish,
They think I’m egoistic.
I think I’m an agnostic.
When I make a joke, they take it literally
They think I think of myself so brilliantly,
I do it because I’m insecure,
Deep down my intention is pure.
I know there are haters,
I know you hate my character, my way
But I’m made of layers,
The outer one pushes you away.
Inside me there is another guy,
But to understand who he is
I have to forget about the lies
And face the truth
Whenever I look in the mirror,
I see something new.
The light at the end of the tunnel gets dimmer,
My world turns blue.
The way I look at my friends,
I worship them, I’m truly happy when they’re near.
But when the day ends,
They don’t feel the same about me, says my dripping tear.
I guess I want to be cherished,
To be liked.
That’s why I try so hard,
And be so repulsive.
Montaigne said you should discover yourself,
That’s what I’m trying here
But what I’ve discovered isn’t enlightening
Now I know something that I’ve always feared.
I wish I hadn’t taken a moment of my time,
And had just stuck to the original rhyme.
Because now I know in every smile lies,
A phoniness, they think: “I hope this guy just dies.”
I know everyone feels this one day or another,
The feeling of isolation from another brother
But I feel this every day, I feel I don’t belong,
I feel like a singer when no one listens to his song.
Like an author with no readers,
A cat with no feeders,
A civilization with no leaders,
A boy with no true friends,
I hope that’s not how my story ends.