Despicably Inclined.

I woke up from a suicide attempt
Laughing uncontrollably
The thought was that life was a joke
And death had the control of me
A uniformed coward could shoot me
Because my pen holds more rounds than his nine
A brainwashed idiot will tell me to proceed
Like everything’s fine
While avoiding maniacs in Wal-mart’s
On a killing spree, spraying the runner’s spines
I took a walk in the ocean
It through me back as a shark
Thought I was tough enough to embrace the sands
Then the ocean shot a stingray in my heart
Now riving in pain, with venom sliding through my veins
This ought to explain the despicable thoughts in my brain
If you’re reading this and just waking up and slowly realizing
That I have the cerebral cortex that zombies don’t find appetizing
I have the blood that’ll make a vampire puke and use his cape as a napkin
And I’ll pull the string on the mummy, because it rather be spinning than wrappin’
I’m all the horror stories you know of, but have never heard
In Bates taxidermy hitting people with beaks
Because I keep flipping the bird


I think I’ve lost my talent

Nothing I think of is worth scribing

Plenty could be recorded

Plenty would be reported

Blame age

Blame capitalism

Blame the constant need for coins

For dowsing my already mild nihilistic flame

So good-bye talent and hello skills

Good riddance to small joys

And hello to bills

No more peace and quiet

Just unnecessary pressures

All on the worst spots

This is disguised as pleasure