Ick

[sylvey]

New poem and I already made 2 peope think I'm about to kms just by them reading it

All that comes from the body is hate and lust
Too long, so long
(I've forgotten how to be alive)
So long, too long
When's the last time I had someone I could trust?
It's so hard to understand people in this age of the living
"that's an ick"
"ong?"
"yk, it's giving.."
The nonsensical phrases the youths of today carelessly spit
Like parables they are spoken (society's gone to shit)
If I spoke like you, do you think I'd fit in?
Is taking this loss the only way I can win?
Vulgar, crude,
"hoe."
"dude."
And yet the moment I try to fit in, suddenly I'm rude
So who cares anymore if "it's not the vibe?"
I couldn't think as slow as you if I tried
And if nothing good comes from this body of mine,
Then at least the words that come from this fleshy mass in my skull
Would bring tears to the eyes of any beholder
And nowhere else would you find a courageous ballad any bolder
And this blade that is my tounge will never dull
And if the words cease to flow, then so should my mind
Cease to function, and let the ink of life escape my veins
I'll be worth something, one day, in due time.