Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I walked onstage to be blinded by empty seats.
Sheets of paper scatter to the floor as I scatter for the door.
I am overwhelmed by this fucking adversity.
Every step is taking with a pair of stilts sewn into the backs of my feet
The result of falling into holes so many times that now my body prepares me before my mind even knows it.
Just shows how easy it is to get stuck in a disgusting rut where you shut yourself off from every open door and window
Fearing the pain of the re verb as it slams shut in your face.
All hope erased by a lifetime of failures and inadequacies splattering me with the look of despair you see etched all over my broken face.
I pace the floor for hours.
Wearing holes into my very soul...
Extolling the daydreams I can't seem to be bothered to reach
While I preach about closed minds and shallow hearts the heat sparks in my brain as the same words echo again and again
Who am I to judge while I cry miserable and defeated
Treated like less than the queen I am by none other than self
Complaining about a lack of wealth while I sit complacent on the couch watching trashy reality TV while in reality, reality was trashing me.
I am my own worst enemy.
Fearing that the worst of my is yet to come and I had become so fucking downtrodden that even the more downtrodden would pity me.
The shitty me showed up to every event like she actually belonged.
The longing for a better life drowned out by the tears I continued to cry as a result of the failed attempts I attempted to try and I attempted to die a little inside every time another chance was lost.
At what cost is this suffering?
The screen of my life always displaying the word "buffering".
But I have grown weary of this constant self-degradation and the creation of a new mind springs forth from my troubled past.
So now the dead me is dead and put to bed with every other lost hope and fear that dares to come near me.
And I dare you to hear me when I let out my battle cry.
Because even if I never "make it"...
I'ma make it
Cuz I'll try.

Wow!
EMINEM each yur heart out!

I'm not sure if this was to be read like a rap song but that's how it played in my heart!

Love the internal rhymes...

I want more

It wasn't intended to be a rap song, but if I'm to be compared with Eminem, I'll take it!
Thanks mingo for the smile

I suppose the concept of "making it" is as wide as the grand canyon, but most probably include being financially stable, which seems to be a position that is slipping away for more and more of us, and I do feel from talking to people every day, that we tend to blame our failure to reach this stability on our self, which I feel rarely has anything to do with our efforts or abilities, but much more to do with a system that is running out of opportunities for its citizens that cling to the hope of some kind of turnaround.....it would appear we are in the declining phases of this historical go around.....your poem ends with that hope I mentioned, and I too hope that there is more than what I can see or imagine.......well done.....

bravo, izzy!!!!!!!