I can’t begin with my own words,
It’s just too much for me to handle.
Just can’t swing arms like swords?
You can just meet my hustler, Randle.
We are a cruel tag team I’m Germane,
I hung out with the worst of the worse.
Kept a grudge within my soul mate mane,
As I looked at myself in feared what hurts.
From a kid jumping off a bridge at gunpoint,
And a shaken and scared little girls and boys.
I am not a witness to become what cutthroat,
Am I a bloody kid with miserable and all guns?
Welcome to the hustle game that I had played,
Is it too late to turn the other cheek and run away?
Am I a softy who loves everyone that’s been hated?
Jumping off a bridge at gunpoint and at close range.
I’ve lost my girlfriend Cecilia the prettiest girl so far,
She’s gone with another man besides myself I’m hated.
Just like a rapist raping women it’s that gruesome before,
I’m not that evil, I’m just a poor boy with anger issues lately.
Happiness will become evilness as these guns are blamed,
Sadly I ain’t the kinda guy you mess with or anything at all.
Lovely Miss. Cecilia, you could’ve had it all and it’s a shame,
Just I would like to shoot her new boyfriend before they call.
Happily, I would’ve done it with my hustler named Randle,
Killed sadly as blood leaked everywhere and I’m to blame.
My world is turning upside down I can’t manage to handle,
Supplying myself with admission and ammo it’s not a game.
That’s just lovely, myself, a twelve-year-old with all his guns,
Sadly would’ve taken his life if he even wished to stay alive.
Overdoing my revenge is driving me insane and I didn’t won,
I ain’t that happy with Randle I’ve taken my life, I cannot live.
Poetry
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