Poem By Edward Kofi Louis
the days grow short and nights get weary.
and when the lights go out it IS less dangerous.
I am not a poet, I just say what im thinking
when I want to say it.
I captured a blue harvest moon on a winters night.
I discovered the mist above the fallen trees.
I took the days for and when they came.
And now i have realised my problem.
I dont belong here.
I dont see the use of possesions, the power of society,
what i see is that thousands are depressed and in denial.
the only difference is i KONW im not happy.
Birth, the cruelty of it.
we chose to live, i agree.
However given the choice between birth and nothing
I wouldn't have the use for the mask I choose.
People say that I have a pain to my talent
and i sum up there pain.
I DONT CARE ABOUT YOU! ! !
the harsh reality is I can only be there for me.
SO, the next time you hear my 'poetry'
or you happent to fall into one of my platinums,
Remember, i may be selfish, But at least I ADMIT IT!