deepundergroundpoetry.com
Pain to pay
Walking my ass home from secondary every day
In every way, I’m not merry,
I’m not very unaware, so I am wary what they say
Their commentary, what I’m wearing
How my hair is, What I say
Every mother fucker choose to give me bruises on face
I’ve been used for target practice so I’m acting up again
Mumma say
what’d you say to make them use you in that way
Mumma you don’t know a thing about the things I had to take
I’ve been kicked around and baited into places for their games
Had my body beaten, broken, bloody, swollen, cut and grazed
I know to many this is normal but to me I was amazed
How human beings could conceive of treating anyone this way
Like they’re entertained by letting all the air out of my wheels
So I’m pushing it up hill
My only speedy getaway would get deflated everyday
My sense of safety has been killed
I don’t give a flying fuck if this was their idea of thrills
This shit had me punching pillows, growing up to popping pills
So imma kill, every beat, for every time they beat my body
Turn this chill, little hobby to a money making project
I got honest story telling, many flows, and don’t forget
My lyrical ability would make Rakim short of breath
In every way, I’m not merry,
I’m not very unaware, so I am wary what they say
Their commentary, what I’m wearing
How my hair is, What I say
Every mother fucker choose to give me bruises on face
I’ve been used for target practice so I’m acting up again
Mumma say
what’d you say to make them use you in that way
Mumma you don’t know a thing about the things I had to take
I’ve been kicked around and baited into places for their games
Had my body beaten, broken, bloody, swollen, cut and grazed
I know to many this is normal but to me I was amazed
How human beings could conceive of treating anyone this way
Like they’re entertained by letting all the air out of my wheels
So I’m pushing it up hill
My only speedy getaway would get deflated everyday
My sense of safety has been killed
I don’t give a flying fuck if this was their idea of thrills
This shit had me punching pillows, growing up to popping pills
So imma kill, every beat, for every time they beat my body
Turn this chill, little hobby to a money making project
I got honest story telling, many flows, and don’t forget
My lyrical ability would make Rakim short of breath
Published 10th Jan 2019
Author's Note
I remember my days in school, bullied a lot for how I looked, spoke and acted. Everything I was as a person was used against me and ridiculed. I took physical and psychological abuse from just about everyone I wasn’t friends with (all but 2 people I knew) in my year. But I’ve grown to face life with my pain on my shoulders, using it as motivation to do great things and not let the negative past effect my unwritten future in a negative way. I hope this serves as a beacon of hope for young people struggling with the harshness of reality, showing them that you can turn any experience into a positive thing. Taking your misfortunes and using them to forge a brighter tomorrow.
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10th Jan 2019 6:24pm
