Scotch Song

I need a gun in my mouth and a scotch in my hand

I am a Lethal Weapon Redux whose poetry you wont understand

I am pretending to be a artist but all I care is the bread

I keep on appearances while inside my heart goes dead

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I am a Christain without any faith I am black without any soul

I am a wandering samurai with no master and no goal

I am brown as mud and white as ice

I am recovering from all anonymous trying to be nice

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I couldn’t hurt a fly but I could invade your kingdom come

I suppose undue advantage flows to those stoically numb

I think I am a hacker but I keep forgetting my keys

I think I am bad ass deadpool but I keep asking if you may please

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I could lose the poetic flow with a word lazy in edit

I gain it back your respect with my passion to commit

Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel? Who kills a mockingbird

At the end of the day all I have is my faith on the word

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I ran out of cliches and I ran out of words to time

Its catch 22 here and soon you shall witness a crime

Of a life less beautiful or a song more pretty so

I can keep them coming but are you sure you want to know