Black Licorice

Can’t see, wandering like Dorothy

Wasting time, killing brain cells, bombing the sparks of youth

Worse than Mystique, yet no remorse

Two parts simple, three parts normal, one part regret

Too bitter, give me some sweet relief

Repudiating the mind, don’t look at me like that

Disowning this title, still sneaking in through the backdoor

Pinky hanging from the ledge, sink your fangs into my leg, I dare you

Destroyed by a half-baked Malcom X

Some Betty Friedan who thinks she knows better

Ha! Keep your words for someone who needs a rope

Because this is Sparta, pushing ‘till nothing’s left

Refusing to succumb to a flat tire

Beat it out, or I’ll do it myself

Take my hand, look to the stained glass

Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, b, a

Start hating, start living, cheat my way through like poker

Some technicality, taking a low blow

Fists up, boxing gloves in the backseat

Fight like the sun, freedom shorts sweaty

This is my creed, I’m golden

Knocked down, up at my feet

Over and over and over