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#1 |
Hungry
Join Date: Dec 2017
Posts: 1,419
Battle Record: 1-5
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never spoke much as a child. Always assumed the audience would start laughing.
Such a hard bargain at four years old, with a developed ambition to wanna start rapping. “Tell not a damn soul the dream you manifested”… Not that the thought ever passed me. Mixed reactions met with audible gasping, though a mother should love her child and want them to be happy. The sonogram showed a little boy in the summer of 1999, heart beat tapping, sonically satisfactory. Years turn to days, with gazes that turn gaunt, visions that still haunt and attack me. Outside influences distracting. Similar remarks to “Why aren’t you more like your older brother Zachary?” Though I could have been a soldier, horns blast in the distance, very similar to those I think rap should consist of. Finically reach for my pad where ten year old raps sit to this day. Tears simmer & begin to drip from my face, reflecting on simpler days, struggling to flip the page. I feel the comfort from snares and drum loops, as well as the potential I pissed away. Conflicted, should I drift away from this wicked game? Or use a pen to inflict my rage, and begin to form scriptures administered from pain. I…… Still feel ugly inside. Little to no self belief, even though every multisyllabic scheme helps to release. Was it all a dream, or am I seldom to those who watch over me. The watch tower’s clock ticks slowly for every opened beat I looked over… all bark with no receipts. Often find myself, dreaming up punchlines to settle scores over simplistic rhythms that fizzle to never more. Thinking of the girl I could never have, & end up describing her on message boards with visual metaphors. I say farewell to those who’ve lent a hand, and greetings to those that manipulated my kindness. I just want to be accepted, and to be fully aware that my penmanship is greater than anything i have set to accomplish. |
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#2 |
( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º)
Join Date: Jan 2013
Posts: 3,749
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Feelings of inadequacy in an unfair world through the eyes of a child as it grows is highlighted well in this piece. Wouldn't say it's a masterpiece but you captured the atmosphere well and finding the pen in moments of hardship is relatable to a lot of us. Enjoyed the read as it felt honest and personal.
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I'm not a slave for entertainment, I'm entertainments personal slave,
So deep into writing I'm concerned bout the text on my grave. www.youtube.com/watch?v=gV8ozGcGJ6o |
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#3 | |
Hungry
Join Date: Dec 2017
Posts: 1,419
Battle Record: 1-5
Rep Power: 16155609 ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
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