Dead Man Walking II [ER] by Robby Richardson - HTML preview
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AWAKENING THE DEAD MAN
The twitch of finger flicks
Jolts of life from inside deaths withered lips
On twisted fingertips of the darkest light of night
On tears from the fallen on dead end roads they’re calling
Where dead men find their dead man
On spider silky crawls on moonlit strands
Made on the pledge from the weak
Summon a monster that slowly creeps
Invoked for the down trodden
And then all of a sudden
Revenge comes a calling
Vengeance comes a knocking
Animosity there’s no stopping
Retribution of the voiceless
Repayment of giving a voice to the hopeless
Beware the dead man for all you’ll find is dead men…
ROSES
[DISS M.D.]
By
Robby Richardson
You made me break a promise on this one
Unleash the might of a pen’s aggression with the power of a Smith & Wesson
Do I lessen the lesson or leave upon my own discretion
Looks like I got another clueless oppression in my profession
Turbulent are these waters I wade and row
My waves a warning to ones that wait ashore
Assess the competition before expressing your impression
Or drown under the raging waters you’re a messing
I don’t need harsh words to break your spirit
I don’t need physical altercations to break you physically
I don’t need cheap verbal burns to break you mentally
An enemy heaven sent to me to test the best of me
Leave nothing but my memory
And roses sent especially from me
How sweet a rose can be
With a fragrance oh so sweet
But how sweet can be dismissed
Roses turn colder than a cold fist
Attack her heart in time does it grow blacker
The grip of a cold dagger is a happy dagger
Equipped with a smirk and a quick strike swipe
So ripe is this poisonous apple I’ve plucked and brought for you tonight
I leave nothing but words and the gentle breeze
Let what you mean to me scatter like leaves
And leave nothing but roses especially from me
I don’t care how this makes you feel
I don’t care how long it takes you to heal
I know this is not the type of situation you would find ideal
But does the rose still not wilt
Does time not come for the prettiest of color
The faintest of tones
Let the wind dust off your bones while I am making my bones
To remember where I am going and leave nothing but a rose
I didn’t want a problem, but you want a problem
I am that problem…THE problem
So, I really have no problem
With giving you a problem
You don’ t know how hard it is to remain silent
Unsheathing a pen with a stroke so violent
Penned up with the pent up
Unleash the pent up when I’m penned up
Let this old bitch rest with these pages that stand the test
Remember where I have come from in this mess
From the lowly house pest…to be my guest
So, take nothing but my vengeful cold breath
And these roses I left
I apologize for the misunderstanding
Understanding of who I am and where I am standing
So, allow me to introduce myself
And apologize for your missed understandings
My name is R3 and I’m no John C
I know you didn’t ask or expect to see me
But believe me I’m a writer eater
Hostile to my hostile
Eat my enemies perceive me as mere docile
From giants to bottom feeders
So, forgive and forget
With a close of my eyes and grip of my chest
With a slight intake of breath, I raise my hand
When my door opens yours surely does close
I don’t leave nothing but a rose
Is the bullshit too big for one man
Or am I too big for this bullshit
I’m too old, too closed, too worn, too opposed
Attitude makes you lose yourself and lose control of your soul
When you lose control, you lose yourself then your attitude means nothing
You’re just another has been Drake wave in a meme culture that enslaves
You’re not worth the time of my hummingbird wing plotting mind games
I leave nothing but roses on sidewalks with Sinatra composers
Illuminated by the lone lamp light under moon twilight loners
I leave nothing but an unchanged emotion and a bouquet of roses
I apologize for you not knowing who I am
I apologize my mind’s out the mental ring but your welcome to try him
Bound to a promise and a bond cemented in blood
I’m sure you are offended
I’m glad my point has been had then
So, you never forget it
I can turn it on with a flick of a pen
Remind myself how I got to the head of the table I sit in
Watch the shit I get when I sit at this table where the shit end
But look how all these people in my rear
Wishing to serve me at this same big OL’ table I already need cleared
In the end tread softly
You’re just a SNAP of my finger, OH that reminds me
Remember where I have left to go and keep your memory behind me
You take your road and I’ll take mine
And roses are all you’ll find
THE END
11 MORE Hours
[Diss M.L.]
By
Robby Richardson