The Blood Of My Pen

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a poem about the inner makings of me. a lot of people can relate because it of similar matters to very many poeple. Take a look and let me know if you can relate. Thank You for your time.

Submitted: January 16, 2007

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Submitted: January 16, 2007

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When your mind ain’t right and it’s hard to sleep and you try to hide the pain but the scars to deep look me in my eyes and tell me what you see, do you see the crazy person in the family just as sane as all outdoors but on the brink of insanity on the edge of losing it, and peace and tranquility seem to get further away as I’m pursuing it, and it looks like peace is telling me peace but I’m not being greedy for the whole pie I just want a piece, and people draw conclusions without knowing I’m cool as a fan most females call me this but if you break it down to two words it’s really gentle-man, and in society it’s hard being a black sheep especially when your mind ain’t right and it’s hard to sleep, and you try to fight the pain but the scars to deep, look me in my eyes and tell me what you see when you look at me through the windows of my soul, do you see a black prince with a heart of gold sitting atop a throne, or do you see a man feet and hands shackled walking across fire and brimstone and I tell a lot of people leave me alone cause the book said "ye who has no sin cast the first stone," and I don’t know to too many folks but I know I’m hated by the masses, of people across the earth blind to the world like they looking out of Stevie Wonders glasses, as I take a sip of my hennessy and red bull and keep on drinking cause I see the cup half full and the green joy of mother earth comes back around so I take another pull cause my mind ain’t right and it’s hard to sleep, and I’m trying to stop the bleeding but the scars to deep, look me in my eyes and tell me what you see, as you hear or read the DNA trails of my pen that would make you think cause I’ve been told that I write like my blood has been spliced with molecules of ink, and my thoughts are the catalyst for non-biblical scriptures and the ink hat I bleed are some peoples problem solving elixirs, but I don’t know, only you and you alone are the only people that does, and can you guess how I feel when I come down off a buzz, it’s like right back to my mind not being right and it’s hard to sleep and I try to hide the pain but the scars to deep, look me in my eyes and tell me what you see. 


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