Thoughts Based on Reason
 
You pretentious prick
What do you think you are doing?
Talking about love
Typing as if you knew anything about life
In this goddamn arms race competition
The one who assimilates the most
Is the one who wins the prize, the big crown
So take note, son of a bitch
This is how you compose a goddamn poem
Complicated random words in an enigmatic perplexing trail
Make sure to quote the “great ones” in every line here and there
But me, I’m tired of eating dust
So this has become a little bit more than just personal
It’s a war I’m thinking of winning
A battle of wits
That at the end of the day I’ll slit my wrists for
Cause I’ll always gonna be the best
Even if that means I have to sell my soul
To the supernatural fictional being called the devil
Or any other mythical thing that could give me the same
In exchange for this poor half-assed wasted life of mine
But you know, that spot on top you see up there
That’s my center, that’s my axis, that’s my zenith, my apex, my throne
I shall kill for what I think I should rightfully have
Yeah, boy, maybe I’m just a little messed up in the head
But I have half of the math done
I have the pretentious prick part perfected to the bone
All I need is the goddamn recognition
From all of you fools who think you know two cents
Of what is really art
And applause like fucking morons
To anyone that seems extraterrestrial enough to lift your feet
And wealthy enough to force you to suck their dicks
While they defecate their bullshit for you to choke on it
My brutal harshness is too hard to swallow
Well, just have of a sip
For my true intention is not to offend anyone
But to encourage you to see further and beneath
Beneath and further from what you are given
Break down the formula and create a new one
Instead of just following a pattern of what someone else did before
Cause then you’ll never find your own inspiration
You’ll never come up with your own ways
You won’t ever embrace your own persona
You don’t be wanna be stuck being a carbon copy of somebody else
And even if you suck at what you do, it’s still you who’s doing this
And what better thing than to be yourself?
And if you’re a pretentious prick son of a bitch
We’ll keep being it
I’m the king of arrogance
But I can humbly say I wouldn’t be anything
If it wasn’t for my love ones
For the people who has tolerated all of my shit
For the people who has stick right by my side
Not minding about this emotional battle I have inside
Calming me, telling me, that everything will be alright
Fuck, I always deviate myself from my original line of thought
But why would you even give a fuck?
It needs to be a strong character and here I’m stuck
Without making sense of what I wanted to say in first place
I just wanted to speak my heart my out
And simply inspire somebody somewhere in some way…
Are you that someone?
Are you in need to relate?
No, probably, you are not
Or probably you’re too afraid to accept it and to say
That you are simply not okay
With the way things are in you
Anyhow, anytime, anywhere, anyways…
 
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Comments
  1. crissybwell says:

    I like this, I like this a lot! I know what you mean and I completely understand that struggle of wanting to know or thinking you know and just being frustrated, feeling stuck, wanting to change, effect others, inspire and just being unsure if you can or you are able to do that. I think that in the end that is all that we can do, write and be who we really are and hope that people can see through it all, the persona or the facade that we must use in order to relate or whatever and they can see what we are saying in our words or with our art. I really love this poem and you are loved and you have those who are here, who are always behind you and support you no matter what. Love you!!! ❤ ❤ ❤

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