PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

When did words become weapons, sendin your victim,
right to heaven the minute they listen,
the pain i release on a page is insane,
refrain from the reality it dwells in my brain,

why try to change the great man that i am?
i'd rather go nuts just like the son of Sam,
cause i don't give a damn and surely am crazy,
for mistaking a slit as one to call baby,

my brains pain lately keeps me awake at night,
instead of uncontrollable nightmares i live around fright,
on the border of right and a leap away from wrong,
every time i hurt this bad i release it through some songs,

so it stays away from gongs, and makes the sound of the end,
instead of speaking lies you hear the silence instead,
nothing left to dread this year i've hit rock bottom,
and fear that soon i'll be hiding away like Sadam.