Button Pusher

by on December 13, 2008 :: 0 comments

As I walk down the street
my eyes sometimes meet
with those who try to look at me
and see inside my mind.
The squint is tight
and try with might to fight
the battle and try to rattle
the world of the other.
Lines are drawn, walls are built,
it won’t be long, I won’t be wronged.
For this is it, this shit
hits me hard, leaves me scarred,
makes me sick with hate,
no time to negotiate.
Went too far, pushed beyond,
my turn to respond.
Feel the chains a-moving,
my bloods a-boiling,
my fists a-clenching,
my eyes a-crying,
red tears a-flying.
Feel like dying?
Should have thought,
now you’re caught.
Call me out for this bout
and want to talk,
want to walk.
Talk is done,
time has come,
my heart is numb.
My rage is fast,
the pain won’t last.
Just close your eyes,
my demons fly
in forms of fists,
in snapping kicks
that hit like bricks.
Couldn’t see
when you looked at me,
the anger begging to be,
pleading to be, set free.
Wrong time, wrong place,
to bad so sad,
ya got me mad.

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