Please either close the casket, or realize that I’m alive.
Asking for my freedom, but praying for my demise
Standing in my corner but rooting for my opponent
Praising my growth, but never truly accepting my atonement..
My plate is SO full I’ve lost my appetite….
Amazing how when you are hungry, the same ones you fed are no where in sight….
Quick to spit venom, and always eager to past judgement…
Envying and jealous of the same things they resent…
If I’m dead to you please just bury me wit my momma….
Go ahead and end the sentence of me with a period instead of continuing to add comas..
No matter what is done, they’ll never get my mind or stop me from talking….
Even if the words are coming from a man who is dead to most, and amongst the dead; holding my head high alive still walking….
Categories: Taran Helms