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If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

23 poems·Since October 2011
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Eight Men

November 21, 2011
I loved him from the depth of me wanted to ride and die for this nigga just as long as he ain’t lie to me with disgusted eyes he looked at me ashamed to see his baby in the arms of another nigga from underneath those sheets I peaked to see thoese eyes I’ve seen one too many times befoe “baby it isn’t what it looks like I was just-” evening up the score from what was a million heart breaks to one but son, its not easy to do what was done but I had to vent.
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