by Michael Ross 2 years ago in slam poetry

Old Poem


We’re all just strangers

Trapped in a world of dangers

Put behind the pit of the street

Just for the rhyme of a beat

No, before we were seen

And before our selfish lives was redeemed

Where we all started out

To be ripped open and torn about

Of the once teenage care-free love

That was once from heaven above

That makes a loser, a cool person

That makes a popular boy bitter and worsen

Changes all together, to make a individual

From the outside of human rituals

Beaten and suffered from isolation

But he still catches his last breath, in preparation

For his next big move, his next big thing

To become rich, famous all from his piece of string

He drastically moves like a snake

Rolling around and hissing to his body that’s fake

No, not his soul that eats him away

But the love that’s keeping him at bay

It’s not his game, he’s not the dominant player

But the girl is the most effective gamer

Sitting along waiting for boys

Mocking in laughter as if they're her play toys

Cause of her strive, her position at best

Waiting for the next wrong to put to the test

It’s all a mind game, a piece of the puzzle unsolved

That’s raps around our head, revolved

Into the coming of age, structure to hold

Waiting for the ones daring to be bold

Taking every person down one by one,

Every card is played, none by none

Were all waiting for our turn

To get that chance, to crash and burn

Were all just strangers

Trapped in a world of dangers

slam poetry
Michael Ross
Michael Ross
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