Price of Admission

I was told it’s better to ask for forgiveness and not permission

I was told that even when I didn’t have a pot to piss in

Now I look like I’m worth the ticket price for admission

Now I just need to have all of my plans come to fruition

This is food for thought, consider this mental nutrition

I can make inner demons disappear like you’re favorite magician

Broken on the inside but outside? I look like I’m in mint condition

I’m just a mixture of attrition and ambition

I hear your inquisition, I’m focused on acquisition

My future couldn’t be brighter if I dated an electrician

Maybe if I bagged Oprah that would be an addition

Haters keep trying to go back and forth with me like badminton

Or tennis and I ain’t Serena Williams

They’re just looking for somebody that can give them that missing feeling

I didn’t play the cards I was dealt, I made the dealer keep dealing

I been wounded before but I made myself keep healing

Bunch of awkward text exchanges, constantly third wheeling

Going from head over heels to suddenly not speaking.

Is it disrespectful to Stevie wonder when we say seeing is believing?

We live by faith, not by sight so is asking for a peek kinda cheating?

These are the questions that I ponder and reflect on

I told you, this was food for thought & this is a sit down restaurant

Do what you do, don’t just do it for the response

Because this world is colder than a winter spent in Vermont

Figuring out the different between confident and headstrong

Success is the goal and I’m headed for the pylon

Stole that line from Wayne. Giving credit needs a renaissance

My life moving crazy, it feels like a sprint and not a marathon

I’m left handed, so I was born doing this unorthodox

So I might not keep my heart protected like it was Fort Knox

I might not consider how some of my things come across

But just know, I take everything seriously, this ain’t lacrosse

No disrespect to all the people that’s played it

But there’s a difference between being gold and just gold plated.

I ain’t make it. I’m still on the progress to better process

I just need the blueprint to get over all this nonsense.

This entry was posted in 20 somethings, Creativity, honesty, poetry, self-help, venting and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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