Im on the edge, tightrope act on the line of insanity
The artist using watercolors to blur the lines or reality
As the Plan becomes known, and the story begins to unfold
Dedicate a rhyme to each soul of the devil's thats been sold
A Coward dies a thousand deaths, But what if he changed
999 Times dead and awakens, does he endure Inferno's Pain ?
I have no sincere topic Just if you Can call this a collection
Of things that I have stored up, Blocked up like Contraception
Knocking on the Devil's door, while cooking beef in Hell's Kitchen
If I'm already going to hell, what good is it to change to Religion
I've got stories to tell from a creative point, telling of Life
But If Im a Writer, writing of other people, what Good is it, If I...
...Havent even lived Mine...?
Im on Writer's Block, and even Im not here accepted, Kicked to Curb
Going to a place for the rejected, and just ended up treated much worse
I've been cursed, with a curse to just curse the living, living the life I envy
A sitting duck, sitting, thinking That I know the purpose that God has sent me
Im just entertainment, something that Gets laughs of disgust from Many...
But I was here first, Im the one who contributes to their pitiful Gains..
Treated like a Piece of shit, From a bird not worthy to be considered game
Yet I work on Sugarcane, Like the Juice, is all I ever needed to Drink..
Im Indigenous, yet im not immune, to claim they are gods, I live off...
...what they think...
And here they all Just profit off my pain, I cant complain, to them we are...
...inferior the same...
Money is power, and Power used to give us pain, The Pain of a Slave....
..Used to give them Gains....
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