s1ickd

book of D
2003-02-16 23:00:17 (UTC)

stuf

i duno im too busy thinking about actual important things
to entertain myself writing this stuff. i dont want to go
off on a depressing rant either, cuz im kinda confused
about shit. alz im gona say is its unfortunate how i get
attatched to things so easily, i tell others not to be
naieve, yet i am myself. wutever tho, at least im not a
crackhead or something. its all good, i'll leave u with a
tad bit of poetry.

first in the heart
refusing to depart
the pang, pain some call it
like harsh rock, swollow it
at first simple sorrow
then frustration of no tomorrow
meditation, oh so hollow
followed by the bloated mind
ingenius mankind
inferior design
complying to the petty
undisguizing trife childish thot
innocent truth
complexity forgot
emotional drive,
sensations multiply
sky, filled with lies
or as they seem,
man's image is a dream
as fantasy turns to nightmare,
and quaint thot turn to fright, scared
is the explenation
affraid of truth
hazed my muddy thought
caught
my own obsession
straining to depart

thats some ill shizzle dizzle




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