I’m emotionally stressed,
I just can’t enter the rest,
Always under duress.
Stop me before I’m bent
Way outta shape like a
Temper tantrum vent
That took the brunt of your two cents.
I’m so intense,
Aggravated like it’s life or death,
Adrenaline is my mind-brain drug,
Nobody else can know that I’m insane, bruh.
Did you catch that?
Somebody snapped the trap,
What’s up with that?
You need a snack?
I can’t sustain your tumble stack,
Nobody dares talk to your back,
But we go home with panic attacks,
Like, good for you, now I’m off track,
Correcting myself as if you’d ever ask.
It’s not help if there’s a knife in my back.
There, I said it,
Do what I can not to regret it,
But really, in the end it’s
Not all that offensive.
But I get so pensive,
The Spirit apprehends me,
Says, “Hey now there, Jeremy,
“It can’t be that scary,
“Just write like you’re Kipling,
“And resist it, no more guilt to carry.
God will bless me in His courts of glory.”‘