cant ramble

As two people walk in, the first things we see,

tattos, dreadlocks, knives and panties,

some have nice hair and sweet personalities,

others are boorish, a shame to humanity!

 

There are people of power, and of pettiness.

there are people like you and me.

there are people who come for desire,

to myself, that is insanity.

 

The good ones are good?

How am i supposed to know?

I seem to like every one,

including those assholes, and the hoes.

 

My language gets dirty,

as my blood begins to boil.

brother walks up to me,

looks down and asks “why?”

 

we sit down, and watch tv, all through the night.

everyone is hungry, but no food in sight.

our bellies grumble, but the fridge is full.

Drinks seem to be abuntant in this smoky room.

 

Now, if you ask why I ramble so much,

i’ll respond with a question, that you cant touch.

if i live, and I am free,

why should I not, ramble peacefully?

 

 

 

 

 

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