Shelter

This poem is about my stay in the shelter and a battle that I've been fighting for a long time.

This housing s*** blows like a pro in the cold snow.
Don't think you're on deck for 30 g's and a dope show.
Don't make me hit low and have the ref take two points.
Don't make me explode with a 16 and a viewpoint.

Now my viewpoint is basic
And my new point is hatred.
And if you cannot take it.
Make a move and lose patience.
Got a tool I named Stacy
And a crew that eats bacon
Now my soul has left vacant
A man down now I'm naked.

Now I'm naked and alone in the zone right.
Got me like spitting out bars in the moonlight.
Tell me how you were at large never knew right.
Truth is like whom shall I fill if it's too tight.

Who the hell wants 40 virgins in the next life?
Sounds like red dresses in a vet and a bloody mess.
It's like being tone deaf in the air of a g-string.
It's like an EBT card in a famine but that's all you get.

Eight men side by side sleepless nights in a dog fight
Penetrating voices in the air and it's all night.
Listen to park and Fred Astaire so it's all right
Tell me how my mom was barely there for this poem.

Author's Note

This poem is full of anger and depression. Not everything that has to do with poetry must be about love and romance. We have a large array of emotions that should be addressed in our poetry. This is my attempt at doing that. I'm trying to paint a picture and use poetry as an outlet to better a bad situation.

Reviews

[RomaJ]

I love how your lyrics mix raw emotion with sharp, ironic imagery --lines like "Who the hell wants 40 virgins in the next life?" really capture frustration with empty promises and highlight the absurdity of conventional rewards.

The vulnerability and vivid perspective throughout make the struggle you describe feel immediate and real.

[Matthew Daalling]

I am honored that you would read my material let alone comment on it. Thank you kindly for your words.