don’t project your needs on me.
what makes you think i need them?
you see something in me you don’t agree with?
some choice i’ve made, and you can’t perceive its outcome
or the source of it’s birth, where it starts from?
i am mad. pissed. because what right do you have?
i take my time, make my mistakes, learn on my dime
to do the right thing.
but, to you, i’m riff-raff,
damned to fail with that propensity you ascribed to me
as a bad moral knit that i’ve weaved,
a tangled web that, in your view, is a trap.
i’m a bad seed.
or pick a metaphor that you see fits more
and give it over because i don’t care.
you can’t touch me; i’m not afraid.
you best believe i’ve had my fair share of lies
and judging eyes on me on my ride here.
this is not new.
i’ve dealt with people just like you.
your tactics of bending backwards to turn me over
on myself are as useless as the crew of skeletons
in your closet.
cue the bone men that you cover.
you say that you have nothing to hide.
but just like those who tried before, who vied to score
some points against me in the past, you will lose.
because in this game, it’s those with integrity who win,
not those who flash their pedigree as some form
of bettering instant status promoter.
i know your motives.
you’re full of fear inside and you need to chide mankind
just to feel alive.
i pity you; i do.
because this brief moment i’ve taken, in hindsight,
i’d bet is you whole life. and i can’t stand the way
that hitting you with these doom phrases and
crazed words has made me feel.
it just isn’t right.