he was a lonely child didnt have any friends
hangin out for him was playing lets pretend
and every day thats how it went
considering every minute he spent with himself sacred
no rep to protect or beatdowns when he was safe in the basement
away from school and the hatred of not fitting in
he kept 3 dolls,kevin,mark and donny in which pins were stickin in
but he wasnt a wicked thing just tired of the bruises
there'd be three more the next day for each one he loses
pills dont take away the pain so he just plays games and snoozes
aches away and chooses which way to get to class
paranoid, any footsteps behind him he expects a laugh
wary of the shadows that fists can cast
hopin hes not on the rich kids path for a fistful of dollars
or answerin his mum on why theres blood drips on his collars
the poor kid amongst scholars wearin his teeth on a shirt
asked how'd it happen? he tripped n' fell over at work
but he didnt have a job had no self worth
but he showed no hurt with both parents non the wiser
they figured he was jus private and the gap got wider,
between his room and reality, littered with emty bottles of cider
always intoxicated on school nights slumped on the sofa
face glued to the tv his hands moulded like a controller
as curdled rage smouldered in eye of the beholder
you could see the glint of a gun in a teardrop
the noise was deafening, enough to makes your ears pop
one shot two shot three shot dead
this rounds on them n' his trigger finger stops the lead
and he drops on a bed next to kevin mark and donny
they lie their lookin so sorry distorted features all gory
the smiles wiped from their faces best described as sorely
surely now they cant ignore me as we share lost blood
thats conjealed thick like mud as a result of my only drug
that i own and love 'those video games are to blame'
he heard dads and mothers say on the way to funerals
the pain like a driven chisel carvin out the roman numerals..
* * *
staring at the screen with the gun controller in hand
he heard 'turn that down' with every blam blam
killin people he cant stand swiftly and with precision
he quickly shot down the visions of bullies
now they're the victims, on screen he sees their faces
bigots, small minded, slaughtered, racists
he does this daily but what if its makeshift?
and with age its, a problem when a real barrel spins?
cos right now..you cant make out the dolls for the pins
