Autobiography (A Rap)

You can’t Control-F4
When you’re standing at death’s door
You only get one chance
To show what you’re standing for
And sometimes life
Doesn’t give you what you’re planning for
Some days
Make me feel like I’m a man of war
Can’t sleep at night
The bed bugs are biting me
And when I dream I find
The nightmares, they frighten me
But sometimes a little fear
Can be enlightening
Enscribe new words on my heart
As if by lightning
And so I write these
Words down in a vacuum
Where no one really hears me scream
As I attack you
And when I attack you
You’re in front of my mirror
And everytime I do
It doesn’t get any clearer
I wonder if I love my wife
Or simply fear her?
I ask the same question
Every time that I’m near her

I was raised in a cult
But not the kind that rips your heart out
And toasts it
More like sauteed or slow-roasted
Got tired of the
Organizational chest-thumping
It left me stumped
So I set out to find something
And in truth, I really don’t know what yet
The last five years have been
A life-changing gut check
But in one respect
The changing times have saved me
And helped me understand
The definition of bravery
And appreciate that man
Is still chained in slavery
And hasn’t yet achieved
The greatness we’re afraid to be
So in a way, perspective
Arrived late to me
And the things I desired
Just proved to be a bait to me
A leg is caught in the trap
But I’m not done
Pain can bring forth wisdom
So I got some

But I can’t say at all
That life has been bad to me
Brought up middle class
Had a mom and a dad to me
The real fight
Is mostly on the inside
I couldn’t tell you how many times
I felt myself die
Inside depression
And maddening obsession
With perfection
And still I chose the wrong profession
But life has a way
Of teaching the right lesson
Usually right after
You fail the test in question
It’s funny how
People won’t look at each other
And the people farthest away from you
Can be your brother
Or your mother
Claiming they’re giving you tough love
As if growing up
Didn’t provide me enough of
All their ridicule and laughter
And the things that they said to me right after
I face the challenges that I have to
And it’s strange that I would still
Break bread with them
And that’s in spite of
All the pain that they’ve given
I found my rhythm
Immersed until I drown in rhythm
To show the whole world
That I’m proud of living
I write from my heart
But it’s really just a hobby
Autobiography
I’ll take you back down to the lobby
Bye.

Wait, sir? Ma’am?
Back to the fifth floor
Now I understand what a man
Becomes a Sith for
Sometimes what you want
Is nothing but to get more
Freelance writing
It’s all I have to spit for
Despite the bad news
It’s still not over
Madmen get drunk on power
And can’t get sober
My grandma is ailing
Her health is failing
I wonder how much time is left
Before her last sailing
As for me, it’s like I disappeared
Emotional Houdini
Hiding from the things that I fear
Like people too near
And taking the cover off the veneer
And telling me things
That I really don’t want to hear
Am I still lost?
Well, that comes with the cost
Of overturning like Atlas
When he shrugs in exhaustion
Tired of losses
And getting new bosses
And seeing the same things
Every day–it’s too often
And something’s stopping
My heart from softening
So I run out the clock
Until I’m stuffed in a coffin
So in conclusion,
No need for confusion
Life’s good at including
Intellectual contusions
I’ll take you back down
Like the setting of the sun
Said more than enough
Autobiography is done.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s