I choose my own fate.
Determine the ones I hate.
Decide if they are real or fake.
Pick what to destroy or/and make.
Decifer what I believe.
And, the many things I'm to achieve.
Even the very words I speak.
Thus, the letters that i bleed.
GOD. Find time in your busy schedule to please smite me.
Because...
I've got my own pain.
And, I have my own struggle.
See me smile out in the rain.
Fall on sharp rocks in rubble.
I take in all the blame.
Yet, never allow my world to crumble.
I play this family game.
Like football with no hands. All I do is fumble.
I grow damn near insane.
Trying to understand these lames.
Nothing but confusion jumbles.
It's just a damn shame.
My weakness makes me humble.
Still, my attitude aims to mame.
My weakness also gets me in trouble.
Thus, when pursuing fame.
I schedule 1- Man Huddles.
Because...
You bring me my pain.
And, worsen every struggle.
I cry out in the rain.
(Kill me! And, bury my body deep within the rubble!)
Peer at my saddenned reflection.
Smile at the man whom seems so drained.
Or dead from my perception.
(All your damn games!)
I fall asleep at night asking: "Am I dead yet, Lord?"
In the morn i awake: "Damn, GOD! Send me another rejection?"
All I know is...
I got my own pain.
I've got my own struggles.
I've got my own blame.
I get in all the trouble.
I'm engulped in the strain.
(Soon, to be the flames)
And, stumble through the rubble.
They play so many games.
My sanity is soon to crumble.
But, I don't give a shit.
(As if I needed it)
Life will put you through hurdles.
Because GOD...
Gave me my own pain.
Put me in this position to fight.
Chose to make me struggle.
Gave me my own life.