DELIVERANCE

Excuse me Mr. Editor but let me defile your paper with poetic grease
These will be the thoughts to remember coz i have a plan to decease
They say heaven is not promised to sinners so I'll raise my own hell
For death awaits me in the dark corners where my enemies dwell
In the still of the night, stars shine, guns crack and souls die
Some sleep with smiles and some fear to close their eyes
Wet dust gathers in the brains of our next generation
They inhale deceitful knowledge while all they need is the herb for thorough education
Wisdom is a curse to fools who read a few lines and claim to know
Honesty is free, shame the devil and tell the truth, it won't kill 2say u dont know
In my lifetime my soul never slept cos darkness shades my stance
Sometimes I hold on sometimes I succumb to the trappings of depression
I smoke weed for escapism no more about chasing a thrilling sensation
No one can save me now
My gurdian angel overdosed on grief and commited suicide
The confusion inside and the cancerous blood running in my veins makes my soul divide
Excuse me Mr. Editor if my poetic grease becomes an eternal stain on ur pages
I say that when a prophet loses his wings a society loses its eyes