Truth is, most of the time I donโt care.
Itโs the times I do, and I get played.
Now, I donโt care,
And the the truth is I can make them scared,
Not scared,
Maybe scars, wounds that are healed,
No more open cuts,
Just deep welts,
Pain, that when it rains, it pours,
Itโs felt,
Now itโs Health and wealth,
Cards that were dealt,
Time for some action,
itโs time that we melt,
Gold and power,
Silver
The final hours,
If thereโs a nasty taste,
Itโs probably sour.
Iโll do this for healthy kids,
some land, and the sudden rain showers,
By the power of god,
Investing in me,
Bringing a oneness,
By the powers that be,
We search for truth,
And authenticity,
But the man in me,
is destiny,
Or a lesson said,
A memory or dread,
Bury the past,
We burn our dead,
So as I hold my head,
andI think real hard,
I speak as god was within,
Here for the future,
And the life of our kids,
Slaves or souls,
But if we donโt do nothing,
Theyโll die before they even get old,
Real shit,
The story never gets old,
Itโs the final hours
We better wake up,
thereโs gonna be a lot dead flowers,
Let them sell their souls,
God holds the power,
And like I told you if it taste funny,
It probably fucking sour,
Grab your sword,
Itโs come to that hourโฆ..
Just in my head ๐ญ
#justtext #poems
#Solana
#AmericaFirst