The source of bad fortune – K.B

The source of bad fortune



A woman. Men.
Pay, pay,
You wake up
In the same

Shut up,
Don’t speak,
Don’t utter
A word.

You hope
In every service
Given a gesture
Of generosity
But Nothing’s free

And the heart takes
Blows, it gets severed
Every time
A little more
By savages
Dressed up
Like snakes
To absorb you
With their tentacules.

And they undulate,
And it makes me sick
And I wanna puke
In my trench.

I already carry so much.
Already paying with my

They say don’t fight,
It’s a bad sign,
But if you don’t
You die.

If you don’t,
You don’t get eat.

Yeah, I’m not an
Appeased fuck
In my big house,

I don’t have
A pink filter,
Only painkillers
And real killers
Hovering around.

They say don’t
But if you don’t
You get destroyed.

I have fists and I have

The latter are being
Trampled upon.

Anything sacred
Is getting polluted
By consumerism,
Mass media
And heavy

They made us
Now they want us

It won’t happen,
O Jesus,
O Lord.

It’s not happening
As long as I breathe.

It used to be fun
To live,

It ain’t no more.

Anything works
To get some

I’m a social worker,
Not a bitch
Or a rug
On which people
Walk carelessly.

It’s a story about

Ignite the inequity.

Burn trash,
Justice buildings,
State prisons,

Kill the real
At the head
Of States :

Reassuring smiles
On T.V and fists
Of gold
In the ass,

It hurts…
It hurts….

It hurts
My feelings.






All rights reserved. 2019.


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