Where Do You Fit In?

A poem about Life. Self Explanatory.

We all have substitutions that turn into addictions,

Our own personal won sweepstakes escapes,

Hiding the real living in the dark loving the drapes,

Due to mistakes, or because they can’t reach self-high stakes,

Some people got to smoke got to toke,

Some abuse their luck and like to f**k; got to stroke,

Some hide and become sarcastic inside; ya know just gotta to tell that joke,

Women eat a lot not worrying about a pound,

Some get angry hitting and striking leaving others on the ground,

But me; I just like the way that bass sound,

A dope beat is my retreat,

I get lost in the noise,
No killjoys,
Release and forget not thinking about regret,

Or any of the troubles that the b*****d from hell sent,

The saxophone makes me feel like I'm not alone,

Like I have a place to call home,

While I sit comfortably in my dome,

Feeling like this is probably how my pops felt back when he had that black Cadillac with the chrome,

Anyway back to today, some express through ballet, screenplay, or reggae,

Some just need relaxation underneath the sun ray,

Others just need that person that can make them happy just by a phone call,

Some need that taste of alcohol just to move along n haul,

People are people some let go lose control,

Some equip themselves with an alter ego,

Some for-fill the emptiness with the dough,

Some just run,

Some need to shoot a gun,

Or shoot just to feel numb, not everyone thinks drugs are dumb,

Some give back by passing a bum a crumb,

Some lend an ear to hear like what's your problem, listening while carrying their own troubles thinking that's going to solve them,

Some obsess over a shoe,

Or pursue the best tattoo,

Thrill seekers go all out and do the Sioux taboo, 
Some know god will help you find whats true,
Some just the company from their crew,

Some become one through yoga,

Some process too much data; insomnia,

Some have to be on the top;  alpha,

Some shun their momma and poppa,

Quiet ones sit under the staircase and read,

Opposites need to speed,

Long sleeve shirts cover the ones that bleed,

Crazy but not willing to concede,

Others just keep busy internally hiding the angry or whatever they’re feeling emotionally for an eternity,

My only advice is think twice if you think that your incarcerated feelings are just going to corrode,

Nah they just build up and eventually explode,

I don't judge hell I'm a weirdo although self-imprisoning makes you a wacko, Newtown proved we don't need another psycho.

~ Rawnesty~

Author's Note

Keep it real with me..