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Sick of it all, right
Wrong, wishful thinking I guess 5 responsibilities but three left in the dirt 2 wonderful gifts but no change Well, I'm not your batting cage I have a point to prove I made honest mistakes, but that's my past I'm sick of it all You watch You stand there and you watch as your family Falls into deep depression you don't You don't care that your daughter on the streets or that your grandkids are one I'm just sick of it all So I have a point to prove Maybe No, never, I will never take my stress out on my flesh and blood I will never be my mothers daughter, I'm not you I have this point to prove Did you know, No, I guess not My point to prove is.. I'm sick of this discombobulated family and you're the center of it I'm sick of the blame Sick the whoa is me Sick of it all, wrong You right, we long gone because id rather be alone than be sick Plain sick of all And that's my point to prove..
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Perceived as kind hearted,
Gentle and sweet, But no one ever listened to the voice in me. No one heard her cry. I wonder has anyone cared to listen I dream that someday I fall deep. Deep into this oblivion space, A space as kind and sweet as my dreams, As my dreams grow so do I. Imagination station dimming. Reality growing down goes another. Tears running down my face. Perceived to be a young and dumb, High School drop out, But hold more knowledge then your average investor. People push me step on me and call me names. Fail to see that I, I will be your boss my dreams fade to shades of blues and grays. My dreams so sweet, My dreams fade on one heartless day. They, the world, your people, fell to realize, fell to understand That I will come back and I will come back hard. 
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THE NOBLESA Collection of our works Archives
June 2014
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