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What are you waiting for?
This one is for my dear old "dad"
Why do you want to lie to me,
Like the truth someday I will not see?
You think you know whats going on,
But on this one you are oh so wrong.
People fill you with stories about me,
Buy you dont know me this I see.
Why should I expect you to know what kind of man I am,
When for me you never truely gave a damn.
You treated me like your children to follow,
Your own truth you could not swallow.
So you packed your bags and ran away,
Fooling yourself for another day.
But one day the deciets and your evil ways,
Will catch up to you before your dieing days.
And you'll look back at all the shit you stired,
And you will see me flipping you the bird.
Cause I know what kind of man you are,
And I am more of a man by far.
© Kenneth Johnson 6/7/09 3:16 AM
Before anyone goes off about what a sick twisted freak I am......
Realise one thing.....
Not everything you read is true......
Is a fiction book true? No
So why would anyone think my poetry would be something that would actually be true?
My poetry is a release for me. Away for me to vent my raw emotion. If I did not have my poetry......
Then ya I would return to my old ways of going into bars getting drunk and picking people out at random and beating them to a bloody pulp.
But luckily for those innocent people....I write instead of fight.
The rage within me burns,
To strike out in anger my mind yearns.
To quench the thirst for pain,
This anger pumps through my vien,
I want to release this pent up rage,
Let my demon out of its cage.
Run rampant upon the streets,
Slaying everyone it meets.
Till there is no blood left to shed,
Then my demon can retire to bed.
But rest assured it wont be long,
Till someone else does me wrong.
Then the demon once more must be released,
Till the provoker once more is deceased.
©Kenneth Johnson 6/7/09 1:52AM
Depression dispair lying flat on the floor,
The pain sets in you cant take it no more.
Your head spinning of thoughts of dread,
Times like these you wish you were dead.
Said the wrong thing thought the wrong thought,
A place in hell is all you bought,
You think of things better left unsaid,
All your thoughts return to wishing you were dead.
If I'd only said this instead of that,
Your mind would not be in this combat.
Thought pushing you one way then the other,
You want to fight but then again why bother.
Your voice is not heard it falls on deaf ears,
No one is listening no one cares.
©Kenneth Johnson 6/6/09 8:31PM
