I sometimes hate how nice I am..even to you when you
Create such a disdain look in my eyes
Like a look of a man that shells himself
With anger and hatred and the victimhood
He lives beneath
A myriad of existence and ability
He finds nothing but himself
Concealed with defeat…

When he wakes up yelling at me
Cuz he got drunk last night
I can’t take his heat
Not going back to that cold
Back hand and such deceit
Something tells me he isn’t there
Not yet…
He’ll impend his days to every end and
Every step he feeds his ego
He’ll die
In defeat…..

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