Roulette

Roulette

by Khari D. Hawke

He was sick of his mom, 
He was sick of the home, 
He was sick of the jokes, 
He was sick of no love; 
He was gone, he was gone, he was gone, 
From the start. 
He was sick of the school, 
He was sick of the dudes, 
He was sick of the talks, 
He was sick of the rules. 
He was gone, he was gone, he was gone, 
From the start. 

And the bedsheet's bleeing... 
And the bedsheet's bleeding..; 
You've been playing roulette. 

There would be no new sensations, 
Once he hit his penetration; 
There would be no hesitation, 
There would be no stop. 
There would be no conversations, 
There will be no loss of protection; 
There will be nowhere to fall. 

And the bedsheet's bleeing... 
And the bedsheet's bleeding..; 
You've been playing roulette. 
You found a way, 
To rape away, 
The beauty of what made you young. 
Don't try to be their everything, 
Cause you will be their next used thing. 

Can you heal the burn? 
(I could heal your burns) 
But, can you heal the blur? 
(I'll become your blur) 
When they say the right things, 
Then you fall for those things. 
You wonder why their cold? 
(It's cause you got so old) 
You wonder why they're cruel? 
(Word spread about your used) 
But there you go, 
Because you'll never hear.... 

And the bedsheet's bleeing... 
And the bedsheet's bleeding..; 
You've been playing roulette. 
You found a way, 
To rape away, 
The beauty of what made you young. 
Don't try to be their everything, 
Cause you will be their next used thing.