Uphill Battle

Uphill Battle

A Poem by MikiMoore

Me and my father rarely saw eye to eye.

Now I feel that way toward society.

Just a minority trying to get along with the majority,

Used to be poor and struggling.

Jealousy was such an ugly thing.

But it followed me like I was the Lord of the Flies,

King of Death with stress that made my misery multiply.

Used to turn to alcohol to try to fix my life-

Down shots with a couple pills,

Cabinet's were full of a supply.

Doctor's thought they'd fix me,

Didn't see cuts I inflicted-

They just assumed that since I was smiling,

That I thought life was a picnic.

God's my witness,

S**t was far from terrific.

I tried to follow Christianity,

But realized I couldn't be biblical,

But that didn't mean I didn't wanna be civil.

I wasn't a savage,

Just a kid who felt alone and had a bone to pick with this world that treated me like s**t.

So I did the goth thing, all black errything.

It was kinda hard to fit in when everyone treated you like living sin.

I felt like I couldn't win,

Gin dripping down my chin,

Started smoking cigarettes-

Knowing I could die from them.

When I was younger I used to think God would lead me,

And all these other fuckers laughed cause saying that was cheesy.

Now those Exorcist movies make me believe that the Devil is really trying to piss me off-

Well, he's a piece of s**t and he can suck a c**k... if that's the case.

Then I got a taste of serenity, peacefulness and security-

Gained a couple of friends that were bent on preserving my sanity.

So I turned the tables like I was flipping em cause I was sick of this-

Tired of living everyday debating on which wrist to slit.

So I started making goals to get better- they stay targeted.

F**k all the mainstream bullshit the radio marketed,

Cause it was Eminem and DMX that told me to stay real because all wounds heal,

And if people don't like you for who you are, then you treat them like a f*****g meal.

Stepping stones,

I'm going up.

Going hard,

I'm blowing up.

Knuckles red and scratched up,

From all the obstacles I fucked up.

I'm finding where I belong in this battlefield,

Equipped with my confidence as a shield.

Life isn't bad,

It's just you gotta learn to adapt to the crap,

And not get trapped in their confusing maps.

And while they're running their yaps,

I'm running the tracks.

Putting down my prophecy in the form of a chronicle,

Reminding me to never stand still.

I'm doing great right now, keep fighting even if you're going uphill.

At the top, I can chill.

Yeah, that will be the deal...

Feel me?

 

F**k it if you don't.

I'll still keep going without your support.

© 2012 MikiMoore


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Added on April 11, 2012
Last Updated on April 11, 2012

Author

MikiMoore
MikiMoore

About
My biographies are terrible so I'm just going to tell you what I like~ I like sims, guitar, harry potter, rabbits, cinematography, reading, my friends, stick to your guns, indoors, eating, netflix,.. more..

Writing
Open Eyes Open Eyes

A Poem by MikiMoore