Merged works of Donnie C
Potent Poem
Reside in a broken home, whilst I'm composing a potent poem. Vent some steam from my dossey dome, away in a dream with a smokey cone. One more toke and I wont write shit, vacate this roach from my idol mits, my thoughts still run like the mental shits, reflect myself... My lifes in bits!. Sticks n stones, they stitch me up with words. Bitches itch to get me hurt, fiction? I wish! but this is how they dish their dirt. If she's a bitch... then I must be a mutt, barking mad and I cuss like fuck. Its just my luck, when she opens up her gub, I open to her love.
Wicked Thoughts (Drug Poetry)
Wicked thoughts! I think the sickest thoughts, the kind of shit that ties your stomach in knots. Each line I spit, I lose a little bit of the plot. Smokin, drinkin, poppin pills ten years on the trot, and I was only born in 85... why am I still alive? I've done more drugs than River Phoenix before he died. Long before my little penis grew to be huge and oversized, I was lying on the grass, flying high on shrooms n hash, chopping up 9 bars that raked in the cash. Thats all in the past now, I've swapped my class to an.. A, hey! times have changed, so I upgraded to ex and cocaine to get paid. The last decade seems so hazey, I mean half my life I've been walking round in a daze. We dont get a lot of time on Terra, so you betta live it up the best you can, ketamine and tranques, robbing banks... be the man!
Broken Soul
Imagine this... Being so depressed you've slit your wrists. You're caressing every inch of skin that razor blade has kissed. Everyday your prayers missed, to those deaf ears up in the mist, only tears could wash away the blood... if only they'd exist. Picture a lonely little kid, whos phoeny parents wanted rid, but knew they'd lose their welfare check, if they did, so they kept him like an animal, no high or low, an unanimated soul left to travel a lonely road.
Potent Poem
Reside in a broken home, whilst I'm composing a potent poem. Vent some steam from my dossey dome, away in a dream with a smokey cone. One more toke and I wont write shit, vacate this roach from my idol mits, my thoughts still run like the mental shits, reflect myself... My lifes in bits!. Sticks n stones, they stitch me up with words. Bitches itch to get me hurt, fiction? I wish! but this is how they dish their dirt. If she's a bitch... then I must be a mutt, barking mad and I cuss like fuck. Its just my luck, when she opens up her gub, I open to her love.
Wicked Thoughts (Drug Poetry)
Wicked thoughts! I think the sickest thoughts, the kind of shit that ties your stomach in knots. Each line I spit, I lose a little bit of the plot. Smokin, drinkin, poppin pills ten years on the trot, and I was only born in 85... why am I still alive? I've done more drugs than River Phoenix before he died. Long before my little penis grew to be huge and oversized, I was lying on the grass, flying high on shrooms n hash, chopping up 9 bars that raked in the cash. Thats all in the past now, I've swapped my class to an.. A, hey! times have changed, so I upgraded to ex and cocaine to get paid. The last decade seems so hazey, I mean half my life I've been walking round in a daze. We dont get a lot of time on Terra, so you betta live it up the best you can, ketamine and tranques, robbing banks... be the man!
Broken Soul
Imagine this... Being so depressed you've slit your wrists. You're caressing every inch of skin that razor blade has kissed. Everyday your prayers missed, to those deaf ears up in the mist, only tears could wash away the blood... if only they'd exist. Picture a lonely little kid, whos phoeny parents wanted rid, but knew they'd lose their welfare check, if they did, so they kept him like an animal, no high or low, an unanimated soul left to travel a lonely road.
