Saturday, May 18, 2013

Peanut Gallery

Just a poem I wrote about my haters. And about how they will never be me.....

Peanut Gallery
Come and see me
As you sit in your peanut gallery
Name your price
But to pick is free

Cheer and jeer
Make up a lie or two
Say you know me way back when
The world will believe you

Cheer and jeer
Come and pick
Say I was a freakshow on reality TV
Decry the world for being sick

When really what you decry
Is that it wasn't you that was seen
Forever damned to claw for your dreams
Behind a computer screen

You spot it you got it
That's what they say
Call the Playboy Playmate a whore ladies
And wash your past away

Scape and rape with your words
It's okay to throw stones
When her body looks better than yours
The insults are the only thing you can own

Spew your hate via "social commentary"
Read it on page three
No one is coming to see you
In the peanut gallery

Yes, you have no talent
Yes, you have a spineless, codependent man
But ladies you can spit your venom
It's the only weapon that you can

Use to spread your hate and lies
About someone you do not know
About a life that you wish you had
Sit back enjoy the show

Yes artists who have no charisma
No magic behind the mic
You can say she did a sexual favor
It make you feel like

You have control
As you throw your soul in the middle of the ring
You accuse her of selling her soul
When she did no such thing

You say no one screams my name
And I have a delusion of fame
When all your hate talk
Only adds gasoline to the flame

Say I am no one
Spread it across the land
But you are making me a bigger legend
Than Candy Man

Say it about all of us
We did nothing to you
Aside from reach for the stars and get them
And then we turned the screws

We dance fast into the wind
Fast and fast as we can
Spreading sugar plum drops
Just like the ginger bread man

These are myths that surround our legend
Transcend the names you call
We rise above into the cosmos
And we cannot hear you at all

For as much as you yell
For all the picking from your end
When asked who you are we say
"Don't know them, sorry my friend."

Know this, you will never get to page three
We are stars shooting far
You, on the other hand,
Are damned to the peanut gallery

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