Inspirations From Lig-Mik-Bed

The unsuccessful outcast,

The little piece of shit,

One of few labeled a piece of trash,

In a world chock-full of unrealized garbage.

 

You know,

The one who takes the fall,

Wishing only to blend in with the wall,

While being labeled a culprit,

Forced to take that fall,

For others’ bullshit.

 

The black sheep if you will,

Taking unrelenting taunting,

It seems it’s always something,

Family, friend, enemy,

It’s all the same,

I believe frenemy,

Is the proper name.

 

Of absolute unimportance,

Just a stupid maverick,

The face of whom,

Makes them sick.

 

The rebel the renegade the prodigal one,

Tries to keep under everyone’s radar,

Yet each action is noticed,

And just another reason,

To be the subject for everyone’s  fun.

 

The topic of lies told,

And when these falsehoods unfold,

It’s the disgraced one who’s forced to be bold,

To go out of their way,

To save their own ass,

Then is accused,

Of having no class.

 

Fuck these assholes,

The ones afore referred to,

As unrealized garbage,

They front behind a façade,

When they go off on their tirade,

Not giving a fuck,

That they are causing undue strife,

In another’s life.

 

And to these assholes,

The ones afore referred to,

As unrealized garbage,

If you are one,

Try to understand,

You’ve been seen through,

And the ‘trash’ wants no more to do with you.

 

Yes this one you have labeled,

As weird and not normal,

Has cut you off,

So let’s not be fake,

And think of more lies to make,

Don’t put on a show,

Just shut the fuck up and go,

You’ve been dismissed,

A backbone has grown,

And it’s now known,

You’ve always been foe.

 

 

 

 

Actually, You Suck

Mind your business,

You piece of shit,

Too bad for you,

If  you don’t like it,

It’s my life to live,

And not one fuck is given,

About your opinion.

 

Not being traditional,

Does not warrant a pill,

I think you may just need to chill,

You are not superior,

Just stop being so bossy,

If you don’t want me to act so saucy.

 

My calling is not good enough,

To you it just screams trashy,

God forbid I’m unlike you,

An idiot I must be,

Since I’m lacking your degree,

I guess that must mean,

I could never be ‘perfect’ like you,

You’re just so fuckin’ classy.

 

You assume yourself a saint,

For choosing silence over sound,

On your temper you put a restraint,

Your logic says you appear angelic,

For leaving opinions unsaid,

But I see through this false front you paint,

I see that you’re a prick.

 

I have a problem,

It must be solved with option A or option B,

You insist I should be just like you,

By choosing option C,

But C does not exist for me,

And behind closed doors,

I know your life does not flow smoothly,

Like the false front you paint,

For outsiders to see.

 

A loser you say,

You have this,

I do not have that,

I can see what you’ve got,

You forget I am not blind,

And I can use my own mind,

Here that thing is just not wanted,

And to me that ‘awesome’ thing,

It’s just stupid shit,

So be mad,

Feel hate,

I know all about,

The false front that you paint.

 

What I have my hands have earned,

How it’s spent will be my choice,

As will be anything you hear,

Uttered by my voice,

I do not strive to be a saint,

And a false front I will not paint.

 

Do not expect my sympathy,

Next time Karma comes a-knocking,

You talk shit about me,

When I have a calamity,

I like seeing the tables turned,

Maybe you’ll wake up with newfound empathy.