They say one man’s trash is another man’s treasure,
So I guess one man’s ex is another man’s forever,
One can have many to choose from while another can’t measure,
So I guess that’s why good or bad deeds can be one man’s pleasure,
See I’m blessed but I’m blinded by stress,
Trying to create a physical happiness,
But mentally corrupted so it happens less,
Then I’m reminded that life is just a test,and I can’t be like the rest,
It isn’t possible for a man to achieve his goals living like another,
Like its impossible for a man to respect his lady if he doesn’t respect his mother,
Or at least love her,
Show less resistance and show more feelings,
But pride stands in the way, making any vision of a future less appealing,
At times I feel like an angel with broken wings,
Searching for the good in all things,
Experimenting on my own for personal relief,
Just to find out that I can’t do it on my own with a personal belief,
I just hope I don’t Lynch myself on the dope of a theory trying to cope,
From being hurt when I should use my anger for good combined with hope,
Then turn around and say it didn’t mean anything when the moment comes to an end,
But the world can see my failed attempts of trying to pretend,
And they can have it since I have one love,
That gets me by every time I look above,
So now I’m just playing my role no more being easily exposed,
So unless you read my book of rhymes my heart seems closed!
