Untitlied

Sometimes

Sometimes I have bad days,
I don't act like me I act crazz.
I don't understand what happens,
or what causes it,
I guess I shou think and sit.
When I get mad,
I can go crazy,
and sometimes I lose what I had.
Maybe I need help or something,
but it's crazy I just don't want nothing.
There has been  stormy days
that I can get really mean,
and I just won't care I'll get in your face.
I hate when my bad days becomes everyones,
when I see what I did or what happen,
in my truth i want to pick up a gun.
Sometimes I want to destroy what I love,
but that would be a crime,
but it's happen before in other times.
At times i think that what I live isn't real,
yeah it's probable crazy,
and well that is what I give the world to deal.
The other day I broke a table,
it didn't hurt at all,
but that been a person it could of been fatel.
I have kept my control,
I feel that I am not a danger,
but God oh God don't let me meet the wrong stranger.



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Sometimes

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