Salt In The Wound Poem by Strydar Enox

I woke up this morning with anger on my mind,
A feeling to burn my emotions inside.
Another sigh, I don't care why. I'm not an violent guy.
But anger makes my fists fly, Make my eyes go blind.
I can't find the reasons why, But I'll still fight.
Till my fist might, make their face bite the dust mites.
Have their jaws crack and my knuckles bleed.
More blood to fuel my anger needs.
Keep my head high? Look for the bright side?
I can't wait to see their side when my kicks fly.
Make their kidneys bleed, make their ribs collapse.
Leave them on the ground with their blood leaking fast.
Say their gunna pay be back, Say their gunna pay me quick?
Shoulda used their own money to pay their own shit.
That doesn't take wit, but now it seems fit.
That my fist is going to reiterate to their body what wit is.
Gunna have sex with bitches on my bed?
Gunna sleep there while I'm off doing shit?
Gunna wait for me to come back to find, all my money spent
and all my liquids dry. Bide some time,
You can't run and hide, I'm gunna find you and tan your hide.
When dealing in the future its better to ask before you take mine.