You take a raincheck on God,
Because the devils produces the paycheck-if money is the root of all evil...
slowly losing your way to hell, like those who dont believe in love, but have not accumulated hate yet.
and you will never get it, if life is a pen then you pick up what i put down.
never get it like those who have to pass with higher grade just to maintain the standard.
never put your life at the hands of the men,
prayers get answered quicker than you can say Amen (it is done)
i still went home...
i came home, anthony hamilton-coming back from where i came from
ndande ndanyathela umhlaba-mntasekhaya, dont cry, know i gave it my best and still i wont die.
no lies, the best and the worst-and believe that it hurts when someone else's one night stand is really your wife...
"for I had a mom, but dad used to take her out, not like on a date...
I mean fists full of hate...hard to be brave in a room full of cowards..." Soul
Far from easy, stuck in the past, like pictures full of Presstick...act quick...like in a place full of criminals.
For real writers are not cowards
And I am real not fake like a black person wearing blue contact lenses
Afraid to be themselves-a Judas-wannabe...
rather call me a lemon-bulb. because i produce the limelight...
in south africa, i dont want to be famous like cars that you drive on the right side.
words making me week-like seven days...
still confusing as those passing with a higher grade, just to maintain the standard...
never hear me...
because you cant stand for wisewords from a young man....
would you prefer foolish words from an old man
read in the zahir that life is crazy...
would you put an electric chair-around your neck...
the why do you carry an instrumenty of toture-the crucifix...
but can you bear the Burden of carrying only one cross-love all as you love you.
we all know the bible-i cannot be explaining scripts i never wrote...
and i qoute....Jesus turned water to wine...
my visual distorted imagery, is aiming at your heart while pointing to your head.
mind you im justshootin blanks if you dont hear me....
but even a broken watch tells the correct time at least once a day...corrrection twice...
no news censorship. scenes no longer disturb sensitive viewers...
even pirated porn is being sold at the streets,
and people complain over, piracy...
something wrong with the picture...
they swear your mom and act like you not hurt...
but I'll hurt them back, like going to an mtn store to buy a vodacom voucher
streetwise two, at mcdonalds...
nothing comes between me and my imaginary friend.
like walking barefoot to stop and tie your shoelaces...
a girl once said to me, i sleep with men on the first date...
getting rid of the sexual tension so as to get to know her for her...
if marriages are renewed, then why is the relationhip with God annuled
like we come off the church with just divorced on the plate....
childish, you and a girls name with a four in the middle...
still life changes quicker than a permanent job, of a petrol attendant...
like Kanye west, singing the good life with tears in his eyes...
if thats the case...i swear to never ever swear again....
We are seen from anywhere where there in darkness...
for the price of fame...
I am was willing to try out these drugs, smoke, out my lung...drink till i am drunk...
even attempt a failed attempt of suicide just to grab your attention, did i fail to mention that...
we are stars...since people will never really see us for who we are...because we deemed to be that far, up the sky,
but even a bird wants to walk on the ground...hence they prayed to God gave bless them with legs
but the minute they land...the split second they land.
feels like my life as...i watched as they cast stones...
till it flies or till it dies...
for every author was to know how to kill a mockingbird, these kids learn to kill two birds with one stone...
so how do you think i feel when people actually applaud my poems...
just to tell yell and raise all hell telling the truth about my life....
i dont sleep at night...
Insomnias my only cure for nightmares, im scared
and im hurt, like a woman wearing a miniskirt, in a taxi rank...
i speak till women tell these guys we are not your sluts...
till you put a ring on this finger...this is something you will never ever touch..
so rather call me me the lemon bulb , for i produce the lime light, recite my heart out...and all these people are concerned about if i rhyme right...
and hence im in the line up...
i sound tight...
not, never willing to know that it takes all my might,
just to tell yell and raise all hell telling the truth about my life....
i dont sleep at night...
but we are stars.....................
so take the time out to watch this space...he stands on stage and go back...
ten minutes earlier...
he looks in the mirror just after washed his face,
wipes his tears and gets to perform till you believe he loves this stage...
because he sees himself as the friend, no person deserves...but the kind of friend every person should have...
now delete friend and person, copy, paste, replace with, woman and man...
because he saw himself as the man, no man deserves...
but the kind of man every woman should have...
he is so empty that he is willing to settle for anyone who comes to his way
sitting in these hotel bedrooms making noises like a prostitute
because he ends up setlling , sleeping with other peoples first choices...
all because we are stars, we can go that far...
I used to think that love existed in the touch of a woman
But then I realised it exists I five sets of eyes.
In the form of my three brothers, my sister and my mother
so i carry an instrumenty of toture-the crucifix...on my neck
praying that, hoping it could numb the pain
but can you bear the burden of carrying only one cross-
love all as you love you.
and i qoute....even alchoholics state that Jesus turned water to wine...
so let the voice just be penetrate, because im speaking my mind...
name is soul, because God's vision is mine...
might not get the point... because all i am to you in dope.
like cocaine addicts, you still get a line.
after the perfomance like rihhana, or an abused wife....im silently keeping me quiet...
while dropping the charges on the floor, like clothes...
but insecure is the girls who washes with her clothes on, hoping no know barges through the door...
i am not complainin, explaining that im internally paining...
my visual distorted imagery, is aiming at your heart while pointing to your head.
mind you im blanks if you dont hear me....
after i get off stage, i feel more like the gilrs who sleep with men on the first date...
"because after you get what you want, will you still know get to know me..."
no
"will you still WANT to get to know me..."
whenit comes to God
"nothing comes between me and my imaginary friend..."
i see the future....like a bushman
l walking barefoot to stop
and get down on one knee, fiddling with his feet.
another asked him what are you doing...
tie your shoelaces...just before you think im either a genius, insane or going crazy
consider
if marriages are renewed, then why is the relationhip with God annuled
like we come off the church with just divorced on the plate....
just as jesus, predicted hee would be betrayed...
ten people would have clapped by the time, i leave the stage....
for no one listens...
still play childish games,
like a guy and girls name with a four in the middle...
K.I.S.S written on a tree
little do we know thAT the future depicts what we wood not see...
that years later the same thing wriite on the tree was written on paper....
is that not the same thind written on the same thing...
thats faith...believing what other people cannot believe.
i still use a watch as bandagges, bandaid, as time heals all woounds...
No Curtis-see, i need, no fifty cent, before i self destruct
i hide in my mind, the thoughts of a boy i left behind ....and looking at him in a corner shaking as though he is freezing.
based these thoughts on cosmetics, as i am not about to draw loser on my forehead-with a lipstick, just because i cant make upmind.
does not matter the weight i carry on these shoulders, and how many clothes i wear, i still feel naked infront of people...
i cry my eyes out, but in an open space, i cant find a place...
me, never protected, neglected, rejected , disrespected...
sometimes i wish i was not a poet, then no one would say, yo write a piece about me...i really dont want to love, because someone will hurt me and think its inspiration...
all the worlds stages, if dont listen here today, you just another person slowly throwing your .life away...
fame is the name of the game....
still life changes quicker than a permanent job, of a petrol attendant...
And you swear it-I will never ever...swear again
Because the devils produces the paycheck-if money is the root of all evil...
slowly losing your way to hell, like those who dont believe in love, but have not accumulated hate yet.
and you will never get it, if life is a pen then you pick up what i put down.
never get it like those who have to pass with higher grade just to maintain the standard.
never put your life at the hands of the men,
prayers get answered quicker than you can say Amen (it is done)
i still went home...
i came home, anthony hamilton-coming back from where i came from
ndande ndanyathela umhlaba-mntasekhaya, dont cry, know i gave it my best and still i wont die.
no lies, the best and the worst-and believe that it hurts when someone else's one night stand is really your wife...
"for I had a mom, but dad used to take her out, not like on a date...
I mean fists full of hate...hard to be brave in a room full of cowards..." Soul
Far from easy, stuck in the past, like pictures full of Presstick...act quick...like in a place full of criminals.
For real writers are not cowards
And I am real not fake like a black person wearing blue contact lenses
Afraid to be themselves-a Judas-wannabe...
rather call me a lemon-bulb. because i produce the limelight...
in south africa, i dont want to be famous like cars that you drive on the right side.
words making me week-like seven days...
still confusing as those passing with a higher grade, just to maintain the standard...
never hear me...
because you cant stand for wisewords from a young man....
would you prefer foolish words from an old man
read in the zahir that life is crazy...
would you put an electric chair-around your neck...
the why do you carry an instrumenty of toture-the crucifix...
but can you bear the Burden of carrying only one cross-love all as you love you.
we all know the bible-i cannot be explaining scripts i never wrote...
and i qoute....Jesus turned water to wine...
my visual distorted imagery, is aiming at your heart while pointing to your head.
mind you im justshootin blanks if you dont hear me....
but even a broken watch tells the correct time at least once a day...corrrection twice...
no news censorship. scenes no longer disturb sensitive viewers...
even pirated porn is being sold at the streets,
and people complain over, piracy...
something wrong with the picture...
they swear your mom and act like you not hurt...
but I'll hurt them back, like going to an mtn store to buy a vodacom voucher
streetwise two, at mcdonalds...
nothing comes between me and my imaginary friend.
like walking barefoot to stop and tie your shoelaces...
a girl once said to me, i sleep with men on the first date...
getting rid of the sexual tension so as to get to know her for her...
if marriages are renewed, then why is the relationhip with God annuled
like we come off the church with just divorced on the plate....
childish, you and a girls name with a four in the middle...
still life changes quicker than a permanent job, of a petrol attendant...
like Kanye west, singing the good life with tears in his eyes...
if thats the case...i swear to never ever swear again....
We are seen from anywhere where there in darkness...
for the price of fame...
I am was willing to try out these drugs, smoke, out my lung...drink till i am drunk...
even attempt a failed attempt of suicide just to grab your attention, did i fail to mention that...
we are stars...since people will never really see us for who we are...because we deemed to be that far, up the sky,
but even a bird wants to walk on the ground...hence they prayed to God gave bless them with legs
but the minute they land...the split second they land.
feels like my life as...i watched as they cast stones...
till it flies or till it dies...
for every author was to know how to kill a mockingbird, these kids learn to kill two birds with one stone...
so how do you think i feel when people actually applaud my poems...
just to tell yell and raise all hell telling the truth about my life....
i dont sleep at night...
Insomnias my only cure for nightmares, im scared
and im hurt, like a woman wearing a miniskirt, in a taxi rank...
i speak till women tell these guys we are not your sluts...
till you put a ring on this finger...this is something you will never ever touch..
so rather call me me the lemon bulb , for i produce the lime light, recite my heart out...and all these people are concerned about if i rhyme right...
and hence im in the line up...
i sound tight...
not, never willing to know that it takes all my might,
just to tell yell and raise all hell telling the truth about my life....
i dont sleep at night...
but we are stars.....................
so take the time out to watch this space...he stands on stage and go back...
ten minutes earlier...
he looks in the mirror just after washed his face,
wipes his tears and gets to perform till you believe he loves this stage...
because he sees himself as the friend, no person deserves...but the kind of friend every person should have...
now delete friend and person, copy, paste, replace with, woman and man...
because he saw himself as the man, no man deserves...
but the kind of man every woman should have...
he is so empty that he is willing to settle for anyone who comes to his way
sitting in these hotel bedrooms making noises like a prostitute
because he ends up setlling , sleeping with other peoples first choices...
all because we are stars, we can go that far...
I used to think that love existed in the touch of a woman
But then I realised it exists I five sets of eyes.
In the form of my three brothers, my sister and my mother
so i carry an instrumenty of toture-the crucifix...on my neck
praying that, hoping it could numb the pain
but can you bear the burden of carrying only one cross-
love all as you love you.
and i qoute....even alchoholics state that Jesus turned water to wine...
so let the voice just be penetrate, because im speaking my mind...
name is soul, because God's vision is mine...
might not get the point... because all i am to you in dope.
like cocaine addicts, you still get a line.
after the perfomance like rihhana, or an abused wife....im silently keeping me quiet...
while dropping the charges on the floor, like clothes...
but insecure is the girls who washes with her clothes on, hoping no know barges through the door...
i am not complainin, explaining that im internally paining...
my visual distorted imagery, is aiming at your heart while pointing to your head.
mind you im blanks if you dont hear me....
after i get off stage, i feel more like the gilrs who sleep with men on the first date...
"because after you get what you want, will you still know get to know me..."
no
"will you still WANT to get to know me..."
whenit comes to God
"nothing comes between me and my imaginary friend..."
i see the future....like a bushman
l walking barefoot to stop
and get down on one knee, fiddling with his feet.
another asked him what are you doing...
tie your shoelaces...just before you think im either a genius, insane or going crazy
consider
if marriages are renewed, then why is the relationhip with God annuled
like we come off the church with just divorced on the plate....
just as jesus, predicted hee would be betrayed...
ten people would have clapped by the time, i leave the stage....
for no one listens...
still play childish games,
like a guy and girls name with a four in the middle...
K.I.S.S written on a tree
little do we know thAT the future depicts what we wood not see...
that years later the same thing wriite on the tree was written on paper....
is that not the same thind written on the same thing...
thats faith...believing what other people cannot believe.
i still use a watch as bandagges, bandaid, as time heals all woounds...
No Curtis-see, i need, no fifty cent, before i self destruct
i hide in my mind, the thoughts of a boy i left behind ....and looking at him in a corner shaking as though he is freezing.
based these thoughts on cosmetics, as i am not about to draw loser on my forehead-with a lipstick, just because i cant make upmind.
does not matter the weight i carry on these shoulders, and how many clothes i wear, i still feel naked infront of people...
i cry my eyes out, but in an open space, i cant find a place...
me, never protected, neglected, rejected , disrespected...
sometimes i wish i was not a poet, then no one would say, yo write a piece about me...i really dont want to love, because someone will hurt me and think its inspiration...
all the worlds stages, if dont listen here today, you just another person slowly throwing your .life away...
fame is the name of the game....
still life changes quicker than a permanent job, of a petrol attendant...
And you swear it-I will never ever...swear again
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