R.I.P.
It’s like my version of silence is sirens and violence
My mind is terrorist island I’m killing the vibrant
Silent epiphanies, gave obituaries to my mysteries
My dreams and aspirations how can I be so complacent
Internal bleeding, the suicidal motions of the brain
Ask myself everyday why should I care what they say
Wanna say I’m a leader, would by lying because I wear the fakeness too
Wanna say I’m a believer, sounds like I’m trying to make my dreams come true
Gravitating to inspirationals stating I can do anything
Funny how it feels as if it’s slim to none that I can do anything
When all I see is quick success and artificial dreams
That are praised then disposed but at the end ,they sold a dream
My silence is chaos but the ones who are speaking has caused destruction
My mind is the storm and theirs is category 7, 9/11
And casualties are at an all time high
It