You’ll never accept me For what I am Known Just a eurocentricity Cultural throne But I want you to know I am more
By Michael Brandon Marchese3 years ago in Poets
The gangs are the left I’m the master suspicion She’s not coming back Not a star To be wishin’ Upon So go fish
Something takes hold when moon replaces sun Its rise above the night heralds the beast I will become A slave to her beauty, servant to her will
Mortality is my employ Morbidity I do enjoy Dying just to hear them speak Lifeless just like them I seek Another cause of death unknown
Soaring away, what could I provide Do you not perceive Of my dying inside Are you so naive To believe I'm alive Or that skeleton keys
No end in sight Afghanistan Still burnin’ flags out in Iran Chinese steel grip The Fuhrer’s fist Still poundin’ on the podium
So easy to criticize Indigent lives Diametrically disparate, Different from mine But I try to remind myself Daily to exercise
Either bow or take heel All revealed Is secured Just as soon as you yield to me, Lay down the sword And return to your homes
This lingering, faint recollection of feeling I banish from sight As the dark Does the light And the happy and sad
You know I’m the vengeance Directing The reckless Infestive Obstructive destructive Despondent injection Obsessively restin’
Beyond the beyond I believe I have seen That existence itself Is a dream in a stream Drifting to shores Of what does it all mean
The morning forlorn After stormiest grays By the rooftop is borne The residual rains A mellifluous sound Pitter-patter atop