ABC’s Pt.1

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A is for the Atheist, those poor lost souls
Surprisingly they’re most likely to reach their goals
B is for Baptist, they don’t like the Holy Ghost
Which I why they probably need Him the most
C is for conservatives, those who voted for Trump
Only to watch him take office and take a historical dump
D is Democrat, or liberal crybabies
Isn’t it fun being treated like rabies
E is for Evangelist, those who spread the Word
Quoting the opposite of the last rumor I heard
F is fake, word to a lot you Christians
I recommend reading your bible and trying again
G is God, oh praise His holy name
But isn’t it odd that you still act the same
H is for Hell, you don’t want to go there
But then again it’s not like any of you care
I is for impossible, which most of you are
But so is your God, He’s far from sub par

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Egypt

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To be awake
To be alive
My eyes roll back
I won’t survive

This nine to five
Or ten to six
Like Hebrew slaves, we go
To make clay bricks

Our desks the pit
This room a Hell
Coworkers or demons
Not a soul will tell

We pray for breaks
And fast for lunch
We follow standards and procedures
Lest we give a hunch

A Way Out

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Saying desperate prayers hoping He’ll spare the rod
Nowadays it’s strictly business and God
I’m talking a good ole day job
Because my life is just something else to rob
But I’m grateful to be here, don’t get me wrong
Who doesn’t wanna be owned for twenty and then say so long
That might work for you but never for me
I gotta do something, get famous, start my own company
Anything to make me feel like I was made for a purpose
I’m tired of drunk texts and poems about feeling worthless

Millenial

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Don’t you like how many poems are never positive
Isn’t it sad I often I really don’t wanna live
Suffering from depression, I might be suicidal too
But if go I’m going out foreal this time
No pills I’ll just leave it up to the world to kill my mind
Working a nine to five to survive, I know I keep saying that
But anyone who does it hate that it’s fact
I honestly think it’s demonic to sit in a room for eight
Day after day with a twenty-year expiration date
I dare you to be late from that fifteen to thirty-minute break
All that just for a three thousand square feet in Hidden Lakes
I need something more, I have to find another way
I need quality in my life, I have to live before I pass away

For the Greater Good

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Twelve in the morning, it’s time to get in my zone
I don’t wanna talk, I just wanna be alone
Trying to find a way out this nine to five
Even though I’m supposed to be grateful to be alive
Bottles and bottles of wine
I’m sophisticated but far from fine
Tell God I need more love and more money
You laugh but being poor and black is lonely
Not to mention my people could use some help
Forget being selfish, this is much bigger than myself
They got student loans and medical bill
They need someone rich who knows how it feels
That where I wanna coming again
I wanna help everyone who calls me acquaintance or friend
All glory be to God
Please forgive me, make me rich and spare the rod

Your Dream

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Why can’t you be who you want
Why can’t you do what you want
Why do you have to go to a job you hate and front
Why are you working for someone else’s dream
Why is your life more depressing than it seems
Go write your book, go start your business
If they don’t ask don’t tell, it’s none of their business
You’ve been through enough, don’t let them kill your dream
Do you and only you even if they call it mean