They say hay is for horses, but I'll say hey instead.
Because to get your attention,
I'd almost need to be dead.
I'm calling out to you stranger,
Because you see who I am.
Not inside but on the surface,
You see not even half the man.
Well, to you I'm just a boy,
But hey, who am I to say?
How you should change your mind.
But I'd say before you shun me,
And walk around me in circles that I've seen,
You tread in safer waters,
You haven't seen my seas.
You foolishly avoid me,
Fester hate and dislike inside,
You treat me like I'm rotting...
Like I've already died.
I'd say I don't care stranger,
But you're not the only one,
Because you've told them all who I am,
You shot the rumor gun.
I hear the whispers of words,
The ones that wish me dead,
The ones you think I don't hear,
The ones swirling round my head.
Perhaps you might like to whisper,
Spread your words like cyanide pills,
But my words are like bullets,
My pen is a gun,
Let's see who gets killed.
Because while I maintain my mask,
I don't want you to lose yours too.
Because while I'm not hurting yet,
I'll make sure that those words are ones you'll rue.
Never pick verbal fights with a poet,
He'll run circles round you, fool.
And now I hope you'll know it,
That your defeat is not too cool.
Now I say goodbye stranger,
Because you're not worth these words,
Because I'm a chapter book full of pages.
I hold wisdom in my words.
You're not even worth a cover,
You're like a notecard with one word.
You want to know what it says?
It says shallow.
Like the life you live.
And the words you say.
And a dimple,
In the road that I call life.
So while I wish others luck,
For you I have a worded scythe,
Because since you stab me in the back,
I'll simply wish you strife.