Am i depressed or a realist

Focusing on an image

That was given since birth

That was written in the dirt

And started out as a dream

Which will always be ideal

Though someone calls it real

 

And am i overreacting

When i say the world is full of fatal attraction

Hidden by constant distraction

 

Repeatedly bullshit speaks to me

And release the truth that it is based on the infamy

Of poverty

Poverty of the mind

The mind’s not rich

Not a gold mine

But i still call it mine

Simply cuz it’s all i have

Yet its a plantation for a slave to the rhythm of rollercoaster emotion

That hosting a bunch of insecurities

Because there’s no safe in a world that’s not secure

definitely