Cartdridge

CATEGORY

life

Inside of me
Sits rage in a cage
Making noise
Ready to destroy
But this anger is not destroyed
It’s like a bullet in a gun

Pull the trigger
If you want
But I must warn you
I can’t call it back
People like to say the devil is busy
Me I can’t blame the devil
When I go off

Off
Off
Off

It’s the gun loaded with anger
Not firing on all cylinders
That’s hard to manage
What sets me off?
The same thing that set me off before
The devil didn’t make me do it
I just blew it
 

I was born this way
It’s embedded in my spirit
The blood boils and rushes to my brain
The pain drives me insane
When the beast is off its chain
Spitting angry words
With a lot of verbs
 

Making terroristic threats
Not sure what I’m mad at
Could be this could be that
Like a pressure cooker
To the boiling point
I once hit a wall
Damaging the nerves in my hand
That’s all
 

I’ll lose my freedom if I kill a man
So I see the future
Before I act
Like I said I can’t call it back
 

So where do I go with all this rage
One foot in and one
Out of the cage
It’s right here on this page
And when I recite it on the stage
I admit I’m blemished with grime
Even a mule speaks
If hit too many times