deepundergroundpoetry.com

Stripped clean

This world's an oyster and we torched it  
contortion pinned with torque placed on the organs  
this poor orbit  
we're sick twisted  
sure, the mission is grim  
but an optimistic vision sticks  
lives of men  
grevious misfits  

In our sheets and tissues  
these different issues  
 
Institutions, schools without a feat  
their solution, strew delusion, pure confusion  
prescribing narcotics to anyone fiddling  
Riddled with ritalin.  
Slip them addys so they settle in.  
Next interim, they'll be dangling at the feet.  
And these pedos walk clean they drifting on a dream  
FDA taking bribes from sly thieves  
Deemed wise  
to an oath  
on a knee  
Its so offensive  
a regime  
A demise against the sea  
sea is me  
societies me  
I'm somewhere up that ocean  
making notions for a motion  
a potion that remedies  
and it's hidden up my sleeve.  
 
Stripped clean  
Birthed dead  
ash to ashes  
burnt heads  
glass meets cement  
fragments of fractions  
all sides point yet  
we still ask the questions  
an infection  
we fucked this world without protection  
 
The direction we're living,  
we need a compass of precision  
an instrument that's driven in our choices and decisions  
It will voice the moral gimmicks  
Hoist us because we are  
Poised, we are a sickness  
Doused without religion  
aroused at whim  
this sin-city of sims  
shroud-headed simpletons
this gifted living running out of wrap  
an empty sphere we couldn't save if we react.  
 
Stripped clean  
Birthed dead  
ash to ashes  
burnt heads  
glass meets cement  
fragments of fractions  
all sides point yet  
we still ask the questions  
an infection  
we fucked this world without protection  
 
Descendants, holder of balms  
Molder of pawns  
Bolder than Bronx  
Human  
We're colder than nam  
our tombs are embalmed  
Putin  
Preserving our wrongs  
I guess we  
with flailing arms  
are failing hard  
hailing this tard  
he's starred as the president  
the movies irrelevant  
With trump on the trumpet  
titled infamous puppet  
and I second this  
He's the fucking president  
so where do I sit??
Written by TheQ
Published
Author's Note
Just was on the subway and wrote this in one run. It is supposed to be a rap, but I really am not sure which direction to take it or if it even carries any general message at all.
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