ROUND ONE: (16)Mr. J vs. (17)Witty - (WITTY WINS 6-2)

Mr. J · 01-16-2014, 07:50 PM

Am I under pressure, or just lost in an acceptable route
searching for meaning especially in this respectable doubt
with enough tears to fill the ocean, but never letting it out
never mentioning it...proud, sent out for the sake of society
with my own mentality, slowly waning, I'm breaking silently
I hold it together, to see "hope" and all it's brethren variety
did I mention anxiety? an urge to break free from scolded youth
a reason to be paid so I could easily make it and go to school
probably not...I probably got sidetracked in my hopeful views
lies cloaked with truth, what was I really supposed to do?
walk away with a gun raised? hoping that one day to have my son raised
beach side, sun rays, tanning on life's emotional street that's one way...
a flare hits the sky, BOOM, we circle the landscape...
that's all I remember before I wake from my last day..
civilized behind the register waiting for a check, my last raise
I scream out of terror, simply trying to get my facts straight
now I'm focused on tracks made, smoke leading to the crash
hoping I get mistaken for dead between the debris and the ash
alone...I need to find help, it's needed in completing my task
my ideals are probably where my allegiance is at..
no time to grieve, survival was the only thing I'm seeing..
in fact, at the time it was the only thing I believe in
and if it wasn't for the smoke, I wouldn't be a living achievement
I wouldn't be given the treatment, another lost soul...
searching for an apostle, rotting beneath where the crops grow
without a proper burial, just remembrance of how I got sold...
how I got told to be what I can be, another prop mold...
another job thrown out the window, respectable innuendo
taking in all of the lies with most of the predictable info
not realizing what I could lose and all I'm getting myself into
goddamn it's a shame, but thanks to chance & luck
I was able to survive due to our own advance up front
with a 1,000 other men who would have looked passed the stunt
the failed observance of the men who glanced above
shot down by the other bastards...fuck...
your observance would never help capture us
but when I was found I couldn't hold back the cut
the feeling of death...
feeling that what doesn't matter...does...
now I'm sitting here in this room telling you the tragic slump
taking these prescriptions until I've had enough
then you tell me...I'm not getting this transfer done...
I'm not capable of handling what made this man a cunt
I'm willing to fight again, I'm not your average fuck
what made me weak, makes me strong...
now I need this fucking chance to make it back to the front

01-16-2014, 07:50 PM	#2
Mr. J The Clown Prince Join Date: Apr 2013 Posts: 5,046 Battle Record: 35-45 Champed - Art of Writing League Rep Power: 59349682	Am I under pressure, or just lost in an acceptable route searching for meaning especially in this respectable doubt with enough tears to fill the ocean, but never letting it out never mentioning it...proud, sent out for the sake of society with my own mentality, slowly waning, I'm breaking silently I hold it together, to see "hope" and all it's brethren variety did I mention anxiety? an urge to break free from scolded youth a reason to be paid so I could easily make it and go to school probably not...I probably got sidetracked in my hopeful views lies cloaked with truth, what was I really supposed to do? walk away with a gun raised? hoping that one day to have my son raised beach side, sun rays, tanning on life's emotional street that's one way... a flare hits the sky, BOOM, we circle the landscape... that's all I remember before I wake from my last day.. civilized behind the register waiting for a check, my last raise I scream out of terror, simply trying to get my facts straight now I'm focused on tracks made, smoke leading to the crash hoping I get mistaken for dead between the debris and the ash alone...I need to find help, it's needed in completing my task my ideals are probably where my allegiance is at.. no time to grieve, survival was the only thing I'm seeing.. in fact, at the time it was the only thing I believe in and if it wasn't for the smoke, I wouldn't be a living achievement I wouldn't be given the treatment, another lost soul... searching for an apostle, rotting beneath where the crops grow without a proper burial, just remembrance of how I got sold... how I got told to be what I can be, another prop mold... another job thrown out the window, respectable innuendo taking in all of the lies with most of the predictable info not realizing what I could lose and all I'm getting myself into goddamn it's a shame, but thanks to chance & luck I was able to survive due to our own advance up front with a 1,000 other men who would have looked passed the stunt the failed observance of the men who glanced above shot down by the other bastards...fuck... your observance would never help capture us but when I was found I couldn't hold back the cut the feeling of death... feeling that what doesn't matter...does... now I'm sitting here in this room telling you the tragic slump taking these prescriptions until I've had enough then you tell me...I'm not getting this transfer done... I'm not capable of handling what made this man a cunt I'm willing to fight again, I'm not your average fuck what made me weak, makes me strong... now I need this fucking chance to make it back to the front __________________ .....laugh....and the world laughs with you