450 a. (Liberation march)
Author's note: This was all I could find of this poem,
I sincerely apologize. poem originally written: 1993-02-12.
I went on about my business, and heard something in the distance
oh man I gotta get out'a here.
Duckin' cops , jumpin' fences don't know where t'a go
if they kill me it might as well be slow.
cause, if they catch me I'm goin' on death row
I've seen to many things that no human should ever know
I found a homeless man, beat e'm to death with my own two hands
I tore his skin looking at the muscle within.
Then I started to eat, man I licked the bones clean
now I need somewhere to hide the body.
I found a shovel and a pile a rubble then I started to dig.
I put the body in it, covered it in a minute, then I ran away.
oh,man I wanna go t'a heaven March 3rd of 67' and do things my own way.
Just remember weary reader that I come for you at any minute or time of day.
after this chorus, this poem will end on a few notes horse of want I had planned
and I except for you to go see your family and friends.
and tell them that "I will love you all until the end,"
and remember things'll get better it just takes time.
Murder isn't the answer it just makes you a cold blooded killer, and then they'll take you away.
and now you know my story of tragedy that accumulated,
and my final words as I drift into obscurity forever more.