The beat is fast.
Engaging and loud.
The treble piercing.
The bass making the speakers bounce.
My ears can’t take it.
They start to bleed.
I can’t help but dance, to the funky beat.

Pull my hair out.
Grind my teeth.
Brain is overloaded.
From the song that’s playing.
Makes me want to shout.
Makes me want to scream.
Makes me want to buy a gun.
Fire at random, shoot everything.

It’s not only the music.
Also video games and movies.
Comics, books, and toys
And suggestive tv.
When around these crutches.
I do as they tell me.
I’ll go the whole nine yards.
As a brain washed dummy.

I could pass the blame.
To friends or family.
Say no one was ever around.
That nobody loved me.
None of it would be true.
A way to scheme.
One thing I won’t do.
Is accept responsibility.

WZ

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