Paradox Of Myself Poem by Anthony Yaman D. Cabal

I don't need women, attention or money.
All I need is cash, fame and groupies.
I'm happy now, but I feel sad.
I no longer feel joy, but somehow I'm glad

You'll never see me with a gun,
Cause' I'll be shooting everyone on the run,
And I want everything in this room clean,
I want you to destroy everything and make trash seen.

I'm flyer than ostrich-propelled penguin wing,
I'm as good as mute, when he's trying to sing.
And my shout is so loud,
That it makes deaf people hear the sound.

And I'm so handsome, I make crippled people come and run,
I make suicidal emo-punks to come have some fun,
I make pacifist monks buy some heavy guns,
Then shoot random running priests and nuns.

I'm so cool I make the pope believe in science,
And I'm so good, I make the mafia go against decisions that's bias.
People get me, when they make you find solutions, by giving you answers,
AND I'M SO FREAKING GOOD, I made a lame man into a tap dancer.

I write essays with my toes,
My birthday presents are frommy foes,
I go down with little flicks but survive big blows,
I can make you all that cause I said so,

I'll make Osama play hide n' seek with Bush,
But this time Bush will hide and Osama will seek,
Whole riots will form when I say 'Shush'
And they'll make you feel the vicious wrath of the meek.

Terrorists will repent on the cross,
While suicide bombing their own boss,
The decision will be made before the coin toss,
Cause, you better know it! You're reading a paradox. :)