July 31, 2011
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I'm troubled sir.
somethin is a stirring
the coldness in my pulse
the venom in my words

my body pumps spitefulness
i cry out everyday
no prevailing
no insincere attention seeker
selfish ignorant bigot sounds better
the crusing sound of agony
sounds better than my voice
i can't write to well
to ignorant to seek help
can't find good help anyway

what raptures me so well,
that anger builds up?
that fatal words dance and frolic upon my lips?
its the deamon inside my brain
nestle due to my stubborness

fast moments now & then
i see the pain
inflicted on you
hold the sight much i will
sights do flicker..
every flicker
bringing one to damnation

the disrespect i emit
is my probelm to you
good sir
there's an ulcer in my brain
not allowing reason
i the biggest hypocrite
been brought down
by my own
pretty as they were
proved to heavy

you are my answer
you a rock
no hidden turmoil
hidden in the dust
save me before i go mad

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