I’m walking down a dark path,
Cat vision.
Unfearful.
Found comfort in my dark past.
My thoughts are easily disturbed.
Soul so corrupted, if I wanted to sell it to the devil, it would be immediately returned.
It may better to be born ugly than pretty.
How many beautiful people easily acquire humility?
My poetry is redudant.
Heartbreak, pain, love, sex, politics,
Life, spirituality, elevated consciousness,
I’m provided all of the above in abundance.
I barely get respect.
Or maybe I expect
Respect from those who pose minimal importance, so why should I even get upset?
It obviously has an effect.
Poetry 