PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

TASTE OF YOUR OWN


You know what? I'm tired of the bullshit Oh you wanna talk? Maybe I'd have time if I wasn't I fed up Always mouthing off About how you this and that, not! You always on this hype But what your dissing is just what you're like! Said I needed time You Couldn't leave me alone And know I'm right I'm over the ridiculousness and through listening, damn Shut the fuck up with your contradictory whines Keep keeping it up I'mma run up with the PD and their K9's! Get the fuck out with your gainsay There's no room for a hypocritical, over-zealous, demanding ass in my fucking life fucking anyway I ain't one to really much negotiate Motherfucker, wait Never mind, that was your pops calling He said don't mind coming home Cause you're a disappointment and he's ashamed after all you're the definition of fake And I'm tired of what you have to say These mothers are talking about their feelings But I don't see them showing You are always preaching what is wrong and right You treat me shitty It makes me hate life I want a man That will treat me right So far they're hard to find Love is hard to come by We've all got problems About race and religion We wouldn't have so many If people minded their own damn business If people didn't think we all have white privilege We've all got problems About the way we are feeling You wanna change You just dont know where to go Looking for ways to explain Always coming back to ' I just don't know ' We've all got problems About the way we are living Like the things you don't say out in public Your Ways of being raised Are being changed I'm sick of all this fucking government The fuck you say? Oh no you didn't Fucking sickening Lifeline Shred a couple waves Wait for high tide I got another headache You caused it I'm stressin and flexin Yet my reality is having an earthquake God is trying to teach me how to count my blessings Cause without a higher purpose What are you really here for? There's one round Cause there's no room for two Fuck this, fuck that Not gonna backtrack You need to go your way Cause I'm going mine And Dont try to make up You had to have what you wanted Now it's what you're paying for So don't you whine about having a taste of your own medicine
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

Comments are closed for this poem.