The Pen

The pen don’t have a destination
I write with a sense of desperation
My story is open to interpretation
I’ve left New York but still come back to vacation
Still saying fuck family without hesitation
I have a better bond with those with no relations
If you knew why, then you can see how
I’ve been in weed clouds, crack clouds
35 years old and never been spotted in the wrong crowd
18 was when I’ve had my first child
33 was my last
I can’t enjoy my present because I’m still removing thorns from my past
I’ve told you the full story but you’ve only ended up with half
Sharing caused a backlash
Being open and honest had people label me a jackass
Why would I change up your perception when I’ve got more pussy with this bad rap?
Not even a ring changed a lady thought of me being the source of her cat nap
The pen don’t attempt to be wise
It’s given you eyes to see the truth outside of your lies
How many lives have to be ruined?
The clouds are forming and a storm is brewing
A stomach growl is hunger music
Life is very abusive
The good life club is exclusive
We create a club but you can’t join until you’re proven
We’re having feuds over illusions
Not once thinking we can be a part of the same movement
Your belief in God is not real and that’s why you’re steady losing
You can Google map the pen at amusement
The pen don’t have a destination and it’s out here cruising.