rage

Rage.

Half cocked trigger ready to shoot.

I wouldn't be sure of the target, course i got plenty of things aimed for. I

Feel like Ive missed opportunities in the past and time is passing by, I feel like i haven't used my potential; being trapped for a long time and clouded I couldn't see a damn thing!

I feel left behind, used and betrayed, time and again.

I have watched ungrateful individuals stepping on my head way too long and I feel it's about time; it needs to stop.

Rage.

No body comes close unto smelling the kinda gas I went through,

Rough ride: it was like trying to catch ants under your pants in public before they sting.

You know that black ant with a big head?

Once it bites, it leaves behind a sore scar so you know it was there.

Knowing how it bites is a pain, searching for it blindly is a haunting pain; before the actual pain happens...

Usually it happens, they never roam for free and they love soft spot!

More like being a victim of lacking or swimming under financial constraints.

You drowning and everybody just watching and all you see is their lips moving and they in mute, silently course action is louder than words.

Rage,

I'm about to get what's mine, I don't know how and what.

But I'm playing a double Russian rullet with business ideas and my brain, both spinning on to their respective directions.

Cuttrage on the gun spinning clockwise, cuttrage is the mind spinning unti_clockwise filth with target sized ideas.

Don't you know? dynamites comes in small packages.

The raging ranger, you might call me.

For now the drive is the hunger I feel in my heart of stomach, the rejections I received in everything I thought to be dearly and hoped to cherish.

I swear with God, this comeback is decorated with heavens flair.

My crazy friend likes to say," the word got juice, I wonder heaven got ghetto".

Course the devil made a thrilling first move on this warfare, blindly attacked and for countless of times, I almost got killed before I have uses my purpose and find meaning.

Mostly a victim; but now I'm darkwilled.

Thanks for the betrayals, thanks for showing me how people don't care; I've gained strength alone, wide awake, third eye shapern now I will see those who are willing to cross rivers for me.

Boiling rage.

And it's nice to be used before a brakethrough,

It's true when they say, you should never let them see you coming.

Let them under_estimate you, let them think you nothing.

The humble, surely to inherit the earth: with patience as their weaving or seething thread.

I was building this whole crank from the bottom,

I was feeling this heat all by myself.

The agony I took from the realization that the society doesn't care about your feelings, no sympathy just cold hearts ursurping any material stuff you have,

Ghost town everywhere, is crazy world, no love just lust lurking and I see people sucking a honey comb hopping for sweet taste,

Be careful honey, this things can bite.

Or the rose and thorn thing, a bitter sweet experience lays a balance...

But I am angry and at rage, I couldn't get what's mine.

I know to be owed,

Life owe me better days,

My parents owe me recognition, I guess they have no clue who and what their kid is,

My foes must have tasted an electric stud, they owe me respect,

Pretty girls never saw me, I'm an angrier loner everytime I hold a pen and it is with it that I declare that it is about time I take my place on earth,

One girl amongst the wise, beauty and kind-hearted; owes me a connection.

With this rage, I am bending the laws as they know it,

I'm left behind, so I'm leading from behind, standing out taking number one on the new direction to my soul call; goodbye, anyway I never cared about the herd.

Rage, underground strife; on the way something worth a while is to bloom!