Stay up late and write I'm the freedom writer Everyday it gets easy to say Everything you wish you could You think it's coldhearted But needed to be said I keep you away out of my head I don't get close that's my only choice Writing has become my voice I show respect treated like a reject Went my way because of detours Crossing paths another roadblock This time not giving up my way
Shop around There's a deal out there And money will come to you Then hold your head And pray That that The money, will not stick on you at all Then fall.
No such thing about money exists But it easy does not matter at all.
I spend my sundays waiting for the sun to reach the edge of my sagging roof porch and In the sprawling moments in which i wait i flip through pages which tell me of my destiny And i try to figure out why the fuck i care about a future that i may never know, But good god do i care.
These words swim in front of me like creatures in an effervescent pool, glowing green, Because of some strange algae scum that sticks to them and their surroundings, Forever catching my eye and interest, though they will never leave the pool, or in this case, The pages on which they lie.
I analyze each past moment in contingency with each morsel of advice this book has to offer And i wonder how many times i've already fucked up on my karmic path, But somehow i find comfort in the small intricacies that weave within my own existence, Time passed in the way the book spells it out.
I start to wonder if this is any different than witch craft, or religion, And i find myself faced with another question, what exactly do i believe in? Suddenly i realize that the purpose of this book isn't to give me answers, it's to make me ask questions, And that's when i slam it shut.
I'm sick of answering questions and wondering who i am, like i'm some fucking hero from an epic, Plus the sun's starting to warm the dark roof that scrapes my bare feet when i pace back and forth, And the only thing that makes sense right now is going outside and Lighting my last god damn cigarette.
I'm hurt, By the way life has treated me, Deserve, Nothing but desire and entities, Leave, Don't come back til judgment day, I, Have regretful things to say,
See what you made me do, I'm losing it, Because of you, But without you, I go insane, I won't be the same, I don't even know your name, Man! nothing comes easy.
easy.
Author: Arcassin B
0
Date: 06/04/2020
№ 1204409
It Used To Be Easy - Day 9
It used to be easy Making a friend In Pre-K you just played And you supposed it'd never end It used to be easy Passing a test You just had to study And do your best It used to be easy And all was stress-free But now it's too hard It is too hard for me My head in a book My pen on a page Late nights and waking up early the next day It used to be easy It required no thought It used to be easy But now, it is not.
Memory go easy on me You know I was just a child And the visions and schemes of little girl dreams Burn unfettered and wild
I know I'm grown I see the crone Looking out at me from my own eyes And gone are the days spent in that haze Of star filled nights and sunlit skies Destiny was not kind to me My generic life is a brutal surprise
The world spins fast and and life won't last Love arcs brilliant like shooting stars When the sparkle is gone I try to hold on With a death grip on my own prison bars In the flesh that burns it's a hard lesson learned Time won't temper the fatal scars
Blow this kiss good bye I smile, I lie Drop paper dreams in a shallow grave Swallow the pain again and again Pretend that I'm not a slave Till that 45 spins and the music begins It's just the ghost of me I'm trying to save
TL Boehm 05/22/13 45 a magic ebony conveyance that when subjected to the stroke of a diamond tipped needle released pops, ticks and wonderful music.
