twenty sixteen

Let’s dive deep into this
Work of mine, where my impulses hide, low tide.
Where these wires in my mind, intertwine to define the colors I feel, my penned down reel.
Tyrannical chemicals losing control,
error 404, Dopamine isn’t working anymore, I hope I’m in a better place once I leave this shit hole.
Major Bee Rain to Sergeant Hart, nothing’s makin’ sense ( maybe you rn, lmao )
But hey the basis of my nostal-G, will be on this foundry for budding brains, Memories.
Pumped with yellow, feeling blue, what is next? I’ve got no clue.
Understood the working of the X’x, the kings, breaking stereotypes and your brain cells;
Where’s why?

This window through which I see everyday, filter, insert, and repeat my way
I find in dreams what I lack in me, moments of ecstasy.
Maybe it’s just destiny, it was meant to be, this road was so straight but now it’s so wavy.
Required, rewired to think inside the box, fired up, Momma my wings are racing the clocks.
These specks of future that I hold within my veins, to you they remain inane, please explain your disdain.
I shared drinks with saints and condescending dreamers, Godly demeanor

It was confusing, all that new shit, amusements,
Cruising through that nuisance, We was on it, We wanted it

Here’s to the tree that we all have grown up to be, here’s to the leaves that you shed with me, here’s to the seasons we survived, winter and summer with all their might, Here’s to the weeds, those selfish pricks, here’s to my miserable grammar, here’s to everything that helped us raise the bar.

Adam please don’t sue me, here’s to the new me.

My walls are getting red, it’s a fire in my head, will you be fireman, s’il vous plaît.
All I wanna do is be free, have fun.

It’s no new game, new day, we’re ready to play, we aren’t scared.

p.s. {anything I write, is never complete without a short rant XD }
This societal ladder is a high mess so fvk that shit.
all these plastics, dispose of them, flick
approval and shit, we all seek it, lit 🔥
The world doesn’t care ’bout their sob stories, 100 retweets and their clique is out of their meat.
when the year reads twelve and the clocks are ringing their bells, deprived of your powers, it’s the end of your hour, cinderassalamu alaikum, chapter end.

Godspeed, God willing

To The Eggs

To all the eggs, hard on the outside and soft & playful inside

~you are doing just fine.

This poetry shit ain’t for hard people, they don’t cry, they don’t sleep; On the streets.

Cashing in their sweat for paper and, family

This facade they hold, won’t live till eternity

Suppressing,
compressing emotions,
Final destination heaven.

The strongest of the batch,
No matter what, they are still people, hard people
Their eyes have seen the world dark and red
Their eyes are filled with oceans of sins,
They still have that mischievous grin, their youth is lost wherein they are lost.

Sad songs don’t make them cry, nostalgia is a metric ton of uncalled for blades piercing through them and this wall they set in their heart separating them from their memories; a savage blast from the past.

Sometimes you reap what you never sowed.

They try their best, lest they let down themselves.

Always limited by a lot of threads pulling on them from every direction. Yet, they are always hanging by A single thread.

As long as the suffering gets old, that wall of pain is painted with passion, pretty bold.