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Ailing Vibes

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Ailing Vibes, Box of tools

Its Been Awhile Now Since The Rock Fell. I Have Always Prayed That The Wound Don’t Swell. I Have Seen Things That Locked Me Up Like The Cell And Though I Still Stand Strong So Well.  I Have Gone Through Trials And Confirmed How Life is So Cruel. Everyday Looks Like Finals, Sometimes I Wish I Would Put Myself For Sale.

Nowadays Happiness Is Like A Commodity. And For Me, I Don’t Even  Have The  Ability To Find It. Success In Me Has Always Been A Scarcity Like Am Married To Poverty. The Stars I Was Aiming At, Have Already Lost, Being Poor Looks Like A Necessity. People Have Become Critics, So They Love Seeing Me In This Crisis.

We Say Real Men  Don’t Cry. That Even When We’re Lone, Broke And Broken We Just Let The Pain Die. I Have Wanted To Be Such, But my Feelings Keep Rising High. Someone Tell Me How Worth Is  Letting Go, I Want To Pay The Price. Sometimes I Have To Say No To A Place That Needed A Yes. I’m Struggling To Be Nice Hoping That One Day I Might Be Mentioned.

If This Is What Means By Life, Then I Need To Be  Myself. I Won’t Let My Eyes Watch The Light As It Dims. Let Me Sweat While It Shines And Rip My Harvest When It Rains. After All, There Are  No Pains That Yield No Gains. The Dark Days Will Eventually Take A Halt As I Grow. The Bad Will Turn To Good Slowly While My Happiness Will  Start To Flow.

By Black Ink

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