I'm but a member of an aging generation,
We're men of slender, looking up life's compilation,
No time for a book, no time to read the annotation,
I write so take a look, approval is my celebration,
Nobody sees us, that means we are an aberration,
Can't afford the bus, legs can't afford the operation,
We were left to the dust, excuse my lack of occupation,
The rich eat up the crust, we swallow fears of annexation,
Some of us know, and some pick up the flow,
Then we go to the show, steal happiness and stow,
Meechy has no broad, Meech just has a hoe,
I am neither on each road, I'm European though,
Some of us dealt weed, and some dabbled in dope,
Then wanted to make some dough,
whether quickly or patiently slow,
Some of us are crazy, and some are just no more.
Love is like a cigarette, they both make my head swirl,
Will I inhale nicotine or will I kiss a girl?
If I can get one and cannot get the other,
Do you even wonder that I spare myself the bother?
Why should I buy Marlboro's if a fag can be rolled,
Out there is some easy lust, yet I don't want to be bold,
And I feel like I am bald, somewhere out in the cold,
All my life's episode's grow on a brain like a mould,
I am broken as if dying, yet twenty one years old,
I got my years of happiness that warmed like molten gold,
Best years of my existence: Love, Parties and Enrolled,
I am supposed to be proficient, or that at least I'm told.
Well let me tell you now, that I have a certain situation,
Three voices in my head and mine feels like an imitation,
The other two are mine, yet, I don't paint their constellation,
They control my time, bet they disallow my stimulation,
The first one we call Marcus, he is who I want to be,
Confident and smart, just, loyal, and no wannabe,
His words give me strength, like approval from the monarchy,
Yet his words come at length, because there is also Drewson D.
He is like the Devil, he knows me very well,
He knows what to say to flip-turn my life into hell,
D. is a kind of bastard, 'cause he also makes life swell,
I hide under his shell, yet that shell resonates his bell.
Just smoked a third cigarette and Marcus urges to write more,
D. then straight up mocks us and tells us we just a whore,
As we check lines above they bring him to a bore,
As I discuss with friends he comes straight up to a snore,
He is however tricky with all his powers he can get,
He can perversely pleasure ego yet he always wins his bet,
Because he hides every threat with hides of animals from the vet,
Now with all that being said you simply can see
that is why I laugh at people scoffing at my smoking habit,
The silence in my head it gives me means I have to have it,
It might mean I'll die sooner but for me life's like a rabbit,
You can shoot it with a metal but ye cannae catch it,
And then these people wonder how a person that's so bright
stays for four months under covers just like hiding from the light,
They do not hear my companions eating me like thirsty mite,
That is why I write these bars as an apology for my slight,
D. get's the worst of me out while blinding out my sight,
Marcus on the other hand gives me the power of a knight,
D. destroys my will to trust straight out of his pure spite,
Does Marcus give trust back to me? No, not quite.
I know I should take anti-depre and go to a therapy,
Yet D. is so inside me I doubt the world like a Rabbi,
It's hard to trust the sciences when I studied Psychiatry,
It's harder taking off my mask, exposing inner rivalry,
So I guess that I shall suffer for a couple of years more,
I have considered suicide but death is just such a chore,
Plus I know I will not give in, that is what I swore,
Even if I keep on livin' only for writing more.
What you've read is but a story of a long ill mind,
If you've gotten all the way here, thank you, you're too kind,
Please, then, let me swear to you with all our wills combined,
I shall not to them surrender, and you'll finish these lines I write.
This poem was a confession from the Marcus D.,
A combinated culmination of an effort to be,
Frankly speaking, writing all this, that D. couldn't see,
May my body, as I die, grow again into a tree.