Damon

They say the world is your oyster but my oyster can only get me to zone 3

I worked 82 hours this week yet im still left with 96p

They say work hard play hard but i left home as a teen

And have never had stability or money in-between

And the teachers said if i JUST tried harder i could succeed

but as I stumbled across a crackhead in my corridor I started smoking weed

sometimes spend hours drawing and writing poetry

But creatives were slated by the system and couldn’t be

Education had failed me as its designed for a particular kind

binding you to a biased future based on wealth is what you find

Even in year two they cut my wings; I was five

Painted over my coloured canvas with a black burner they lined

8 years later the same thing happened in year nine

Also trying to hide fact I was worried about paying bills on time

my guy would drop off on tick just to stop me going insane

The landLord of my problems at my call to numb my brain

id have a line smoke a joint to take it all away

When the teachers asked me why I wasn’t in school that day

I told them I had the flu and to that they would complain

They would scrutinise objectify unable to hear my pain

The outcome was exactly what they said it would be

A beauty school dropout at aged 16 I was raving on a Wednesday

They used to ask me,

what course are you taking?

and to that Id proceed

to lie about my current fake history degree

My fake life story along with my fake ID

Sometimes faking happiness actually made me happy

Lies spiralling faster than the cars at the Grand Prix

I was filled emotions and so much rage

I had no way of escapism I felt stuck on the same page

So I started taking pills and spitting bars up on stage

I guess fake uni days really were the mental days

After a wild night drinking it came to a suprise I Sat on the lap of a boy he had dark brown hair and dark brown eyes

I had a crush infatuated by the tattoos on his thighs

Between him and his friends he was the most beautiful undenied

Unfortunately His heart was taken by blondes all the time

Fighting over him each one had a deep internal shrine

But he was quiet when sober until he had a line

Then hed say I fucking love you which was always a white lie

On the 5th of November three blondes stood in a church, Not fighting but crying as they were all hurt

I sat in the back row, as his coffin passed by

My heart sank so deeply and for the first time I did cry

Over the beautiful boy who was 21 when he died

Took his own life cause of death suicide,

Just like my teacher we didn’t see the signs

Behind the laughing and jokes was a boy aged 9

Who held in his tears and carried on his stride

Suffering with addiction in self destructive paradise,

I wish I could have told him that there was more to life,

But the demons he was fighting cut his chances with a knife