Give A Hundred Grand To The Son Of Sam

[Mr. J]

A world, forgotten by society, rotting inside of me..
I'm distraught. I'm lost, thwarted by variety
a ghost, a zombie, and other thoughts that hide in me
the wrong sobriety, it haunts me quietly
subconsciously I'm shaken as the silence stirs.
I bond with iron nerves. that rust behind my words
...words that echo beyond the night, I search...
I find nothing, create balance between wine & herbs
a shining light to expose whatever I've observed
nothing..it's insanity, a hell hound whose bite is worst..
Cerberus, in my cerebellum, that I can't conceal
it traps my will & manipulates my lack of pills..
the Baskervilles, how could you ask me to act so ill.
place me on the edge with no reflection..I'm captured still
craving the blood of humanity to silence the ridicule
to prolong my life, do I really have to live with you?
on a regular basis, I'm regular, faceless...
off centered debates normally say I'm better than basic
a veterans hatred manipulated by insensitive racists
maybe not...
at the end of the day it's just another crazy thought...