silver lining show me signs of the sun if everyone is a star at the beginning of the tipping point do they fall to the roots streaking across open spaces between air and earth making wishes upon themselves hoping they come true somewhere between possibility and dead ends some things come through prayers are mic checks of 1,2 1,2 where the volume is amplified cause cries of the youth brings more distortion to static where repentance is just a relentless lie to the truth scared to face fear is a mind killer and the tales of the paint used for war is the gore of the innocent ripped dripping blood in stripes represent how far one is willing to go to bring a nation down but depression is a cloud covering confrontation anxiety beats out the tribal sound there is no art to war when everyone dies and none see the finished picture aesthetics is exiled where even kings get checked when life traps you in moves bobbi fisher chess style I textile my pain in words to be read when I'm blinded reminded that instead of no understanding i'm demanding freedom from this situation facing my own inner demons poems became exorcism with the intentions letting go of the pain piercing through doubts when the shadows of life arise where there are no suns but a star is an aspiration we reach for returning from fighting to be immersed in battles of democracy of others locked in a skin cell looking for a key the term mc has been adapted, revised then re-edited void of subject nouns of the same serve as the predicate rhetoric has changed so postmodern mc stands for my concern many characters may cause more calamity my children's manipulated consciousness mangled creativity minds curse morbid choices as steady lynch mobs hang our children in masses in superficial nooses burning them in gasoline soaked white tees charred skeletons stomped to dust leaving air force one imprints in dust niggas wit attitudes will be the last poets since tampon record contracts got minstrel rappers flowless mic check 1,2 1,2 pretty battles of the mind have us beautifully struggling for quality picketing policies to stop the production of piss poor performances which catch thoughts in brain wash dry and spin since the best vocalist is always silent society supplies bullets for our homeland insecurity assassins placing the gun of dream killers at critical entry points the electric chair now fits in Sony headphones killing you slowly with audio voltage subliminal head nods acknowledges to God that the bear keeps you from seeing the sky because now music and multimedia screens hold the stars we reach for talks of fame while we travel over gravels of libations of blood of hood celebrities on the walk of shame visions of the street heat the earth cause everyone wants to be the sun will winter ever come when we negate to relocate to space and be a star to the see the universe as possibility and making wishes upon ourselves to shine mic check 1,2 1,2
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