My weakness fuels my strength
If the expression of my feelings
Hurts your feelings, then shag
Your feelings, now hold your ill
Hormones, hail the homo, tame
The horror upon the mirror, our
Home is on fire, many died of
Sorrow, of rejection, of anxiety
Of discrimination, of stigma, of
Mad norms, of loneliness, of sadness
Suicide is a permanent solution to
Temporal problems, if we bring flowers
To people while they are still alive
as much as we bring flowers at
their funerals, many people would
still be alive, cremate me if I die
Tonight, leave no trace on me for
Crocodile tears and tomb flowers
That I never receive while am living, am a word spitter, war
Seeker, verse splitter, sword plotter,
plot twist it, am a nurse stripper
Stripping inhumanity of its remedy
Exhausting the arsenals of my
Spiritual DNA, I hate funerals and
Fake friends, now redefine the definition
of intelligence to make yourself
look like a genius, that in itself is
ingenious, well, believing in your
Real lies will not make you realize
The real life in real time to be real
I've walked cross so many war zones
Seen casualties in their masses,
Rumbling under rubbles, till their
organs crumble and lay humble, why
Must I die when I could come home?
But where is home when no one
Likes you around anywhere anyway?
Peeping the cry of my soul through an
Angel's bone hollow as hellhounds get
Me tapped in angles, life is a chain Of try agains, I have paced in circles
Paid the circles and have the toll under my belt
Wasted in different triangles, I have
Tried different angles in cages, for ages
The conundrum is a trend of sworn
Men dying on their own swords
Whisper the sky, swallow the stars
Inhale the dark night, wake the
Gods up, ask them of their beliefs
Now notice the confusion off their
Faces, what comes first, good or
The God? Before we have good
Lord good was in our favor, now
Imagine a world where only good
Resides, for the ignorant, for the
Wise, the Muslim, the Christian,
The homosexual, the prostitute,
The anarchist, the refugees, the
Orphans, and no sacred scripts
And symbols, no death chambers,
No feminicide, no rape, no racism,
No we, no other, just cheese and
bread, sounds utopia, sounds
Heaven, well heaven is the ability
And the willingness to live in peace
And harmony with the self, and
With the environment one lives in
But a fool is anyone the liberals,
The conservatives can convince
Tomi Lahren and Van Jones will
Make a perfect left-right couple
If you behave in a certain way, you
Command people to treat you in
A certain way, from the massacre
at Ayyadiah to Tuol Sleng, from Sultan Saladin vs. King Richard I to Khmer
Rouge vs. Prisoners of conscience
Babies writing their eulogy in wombs
Using the umbilical cord to dig
Their tombs, from birth, the world
Is foul, and it is hard to sugar-coat a
Thing when the truth is just too raw
©lamin
L