My Drug Of Choice

Self medicating on poetry as my drug of choice
My escape from reality without losing my voice
A different choice of action/reaction may be lethal
Not going out like that because my mental is regal

People feel that they can say & do whatever to you
Then them people expect for you to remain cordial
Instead of grabbing a tool I continue to grab a pen
Temporarily bringing my world's insanity to an end

Again & again I keep being on the short end of the stick
Being made out to be the bad guy while others play the vics
I'm sick & tired of fighting but I refuse to bow down
I'm fatigued from reality but I must fight more rounds

I may fall down but my perseverance helps me get back up
A strong warrior type of man can stand without any backup
It's fucked up when those you love fire rounds at you
It's said only the strong survive & I can confirm that's true