Man... Insecurity's a bitch!

As an industry profits from
a lack of self respect.
The crime rate sky rockets...
Promoting this current defect.
It's a fact they work in overtime.
Plotting and planning the sabotage
scheme.
All the suggestions they put in your
mind to buy shiney things that gleam.

My dick is bigger than yours.
I have imported hardwood floors.
I've got bitches galore...
I can't get enough, I always want
more.
Ive got a truck I can barely climb
into so I can sit high and mighty
looking down on all of you.
My ideas are the best, but I'll tell
you Im open minded.
If you don't agree with me,
I'll leave you all behinded.
Come find me if you need me,
my advise is the best.
Tell those other idiots to give it
a rest.
I must confess, as I address this
stress I'm under to be somebody.
Like a game of chess, or a game show
test that causes my own melancholy.
Can't anybody help me, because I'm
drowning in self loathing.
The irony is, Life's lost its fizz,
faded out, like colorless clothing.
And now I'm choking on the stale air
that permeates this place.
Broken are the peoples stares...
When life has lost its taste.

This generation lost its face.

The Ministry of Defense dropped
the ball like we'd expect.
They reach deep into our pockets...
and yet, aren't able to deflect
this attack against humanity...
The number of casualties project
a breakdown of the system.
I guess this is what we get.

My daddy can beat up yours.
I snort cocaine and fuck
expensive whores.
Get the Tequila and pour.
That's the stuff, now pour me
some more.
I give no fukks bout what you are
into, let's talk about me so I can
show off how I do.
Lemme get this off my chest,
it seems you need to be reminded.
You don't wanna fukk with me,
I'll leave you beaten and binded.
My mind created good company,
My personalities are the best.
I'm a product of modern society,
soon to be just part of the nest.
Nevertheless... I want more, not less,
If ever I'm impressed by your body.
I dress for the contest. Press my
God complex... After all,
I'm such a hottie.
Won't anybody talk with me, I need
to vent my madness.
The funny thing is... That's showbiz.
Our gods are actors and actresses.
I'm not joking when I make aware of
this fukked up evil rat race.
'Woke' but still so unaware...
Guinea pigs are the human race.

This generation lost its face.

Written by: Michael W. Taylor
June 22nd 2024©
© Michael W. Taylor