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There is a nice time sitting in the sun.
Have the sunshine in my arm.
Have the pen in my hand.
I’m acting like a dope rapper.
Write some shit words on my paper.
It seems I’m creating something so beautiful.
Maybe I should think about the beats later.
Then I can sing it for my people.
Show them my life is terrible.
I’ve got independent thoughts but not
money.
The moment I turned into eighteen I tried
to make it.
Cause I don’t wanna rely on my mommy or daddy.
I still remember those dark days I asked
them for money.
The moment before I opened my mouth I was
acting like a pity.
That was really terrible feeling.
But I just need money.
I wanna drink when thirsty.
I wanna eat when hungry.
I need to make a living.
Begging from them is a kind of shame to me.
I hate these damn shits.
Life wanna make me crazy.
Making the damn money was beyond my
ability.
I felt helpless for I have no choice but be
beggarly.
Time went on like this.
It happened twenty four seven.
So soon after I was eighteen.
I went to find a job with my ID.
Incredibly them wanna stop me.
They told me they were afraid of the
condemnation of my old granny.
How funny!
I had to act secretly.
Unfortunately no job was offered to me.
They all needed a person to do a regular
job but not for temporary like me.
And they had me gone.
Turned me back to be the family’s son.
All the things I need to do is to make
money.
I need to be independent totally.
I won’t care about how much it will be.
The first step is to make a living.
Or never would I be free.
That’s the shit realty.
Thankfully I’m gonging to university.
A place far away for them to see.
But still I dare not imagine how life will
be.
The existence of happiness is hard to
believe.
Maybe I should be immersed in the library.
Only in the books will set my thoughts
free.
Never mind ,never mind.
I’m strong enough now.
I’ll fuck the damn shit world.
And you all assholes.
What a motherfucken world!
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