you wonder why we're sometimes mean why sometimes our faces turn green constant torment leaves one quite frail when you are going down a trail incessantly hearing names called you want to run away and bawl relentless fools who know no more than to just to label you a whore to hear these judgings every day listening to the words they say can hurt worse than most anything made fun of for wearing some ring you dont give a shit what they wear yet they always rag on your hair they are the ones who should get lives leave us alone with our knives we cant hurt them so turn the rage onto ourselves this time and age you so much want to slit her throat her and her 40-grand boat they all do more drugs than me but because of what people see her in light colors, me in chains i wish i could pull on the reigns make everyone try to see she is the cause, it is not me we can't help that we sometimes snap i think we all deserve a clap we put up with crap for so long try and forget it with a bong but it always seems to come back makes its way around the track we cant hold it in anymore it was her who called me a 'whore' i did not provoke her to say what she did on that fateful day in a way she surely was the one who pushed me to go get the gun.
Reason for writing:
do u even have to ask?
Birth sign: Cancer
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