Old men alone in dank rooms, crying of loneliness

They are no longer attractive and productive…therefore they no longer matter

Babies so unhappy they cannot smile

because of the horrors they have seen

Teen girls pregnant again cause they keep living their molestations

never finding emancipation

from the ghosts of ejaculation

Most rappers teach lust not love

it’s easier to feel and it sells to mass appeal

its’ real that a man will take a beautiful bitch and worship her

over an ugly sweetheart

This is all a part

of the game learn the names that

are in on it

you take a shit full of cancerous materials

the celebrity imperials are shown on the TV so you forget

that everyday AIDS victims die needlessly

its genocide the children cry and head for foster care homelessness

going to family members wanting the check, their hearts getting wrecked

There is nothing new under the sun, unfortunately we are ignorant

to the past wars won infamy, its killing me

to continue to breathe this farce throats are parched for a drop

of packaged freedom quenching that nagging feelin’ that

your body your heart your mind is no longer your own

it is home to psycho beams streams of digitized bullshit

disguised as your thoughts dreams and ideas…

1984 is not a reality it is a idea, a concept

a attempt to get the slate swept clean

from you and what you really mean in this grand scheme

look to the stars in they sky for the answers not the evangelist on TV

you see he packages too, making you sad and blue

cause you just keep on knee jerking to his words like a puppet on a string

 Never quite getting what he or she means you need more,

more dough, more prayer as you stare at his expensive suit,

see they got the symptom, not the root

 they shoot guilt darts at your heart, they perpetrate and reinforce the biggest

farce since the death of the dinosaurs..

my heart roars cause I can’t take no more of this living in ignorance to my own truth

 how can I find it when I am blinded to what I am looking for

 Or what I need

my greed for self definition is my mission till the day I draw my last breath

 My death will be my exodus into the promised land

 until that day I am a slave to the grave I am a slave to what I crave, I am a slave to the dollar,

 let this be my holler I cannot break free for what awaits me if I plan my own demise

it could be a demise to a fate worse than death…

so I continue to pull breath out of this life, this so called life…