Everyone Thinks

Everyone thinks I'm just a junkee,

But my fix is life, and realitee.

I'v hd more pins than a 2nd hand dartboard,

But got thick skin, n veins like cardboard.

You look at me and just see flee,

But raise ur hand n we can just be.

Runaways, from this manipulative system,

A dried up society, lacking wisdom.

We can be free, birds of a feather,

Flying high, lords of the weather.

Hold my hand n let's kick that can,

The landlord loans, n tick from the man.

We ain't got much, 

But a little is a touch,

Rub those hands n a spark is born,

Spike your like, n pull out that thorn.

So dont look at me, wiv velocity,

I got more 2 my pours, than ur hostility.

So don't drink that fake bate,

Or ever tink it's 2 late.

Heaven can wait, 

it's on renters rebate

Gods inside us anyway, 

There no need to die 2 say hey. 

But as no1s ever seen my tru pain,

This is where I begin again.

@ 2026 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid