Distorted lens

The world has a red tint

from the blood in my eyes.

Polarizing thoughts that I try to humanize.

Like - when I see a baby, I tune out the cries -

Injustices in the world and I try to compromise.

But who the fuck am I?

And how the fuck I dare?

If I don’t miss a word I mean every breathe that I air.

I try not to compare -

but I see the legends.

I haven’t wrote in months I’m afraid of my confessions -

I try to put my pride away,

But I’m thinking differently these days.

I’m thinking ahead, but forgetting about how I was raised.

Sober memories recalled from a drunken state -

These blurred lines leaves me in a twisted maze.

It feels like I’ve been in a coma for like 3 years.

They say time is money and I can say it sure is.

Time makes millions -

and millions make tears.

If I don’t reach the masses

I hope that you hear.