A bullet punctured my Kevlar vest,
The breath has been stolen from my chest,
My ribcage broken into by thieves,
Who deceive, relieve and conspire to perceive,
To be breathless, sleepless, enslaved by stress,
Quaking under the duress,
Feeling ashamed and worthless,
Like my time is about to expire in ten seconds or less,
And I’ll fall to the footrest,
Of the one who took the air from my breast,
Who hid fear inside my chest.
My mind is blind to the inte-grity,
That is, the INTE-pretation of the -GRITTY truth,
Of the insincerity,
Of the hitmen that surround me,
That strike fear in my bare chest cavity.
I buy fear at a dollar or less,
When I should be fearless,
But instead I fear the seamstress,
That can sew up my puncture wounds and give me oxygen again.
Rocked by false emotion,
Truth contortion and life extortion,
Blowing loop holes out of proportion,
Making huge holes out of needle eyes,
Falsifying truth from lies,
Finding joy in that we should despise.
When it comes time for the pop test,
When existence decides its time to rest,
We might deny it like the best,
But the truth is,
Most of the world will be out of breath.