Maxwell’s poem

In a perfect world
We’d probably make amends
But this ain’t a perfect world
So guns don’t typically jam
It’s world full of hurt
And It’s a world full of sin
Ain’t no one here cursed
But we all like to pretend
We fend for our self
Rather than asking
for a helping hand
With Hands in our pants
And Fans in the stands

That’s the reaction
Exactly what happens
When you acting
Out of pocket
Got no logic
Need an angel
Need a prophet
That’s only if
God exists

The products
Of environments
Got no higher sense
Of knowledge
Fathers dying
In a providence
Of Protagonists
Playing as opposites
What’s gone stop this shit?

I think we all
Need a cleanse
A rinse
And maybe a benz
Full of some friends
Follow some trends
And maybe just then
We make America decent again
That sounds like doable plan

If the youth sticks to it
Proof is in the pudding
But we got it out the mud
The Story of our lives
If the topic is showing love
God should write it twice
Getting high off a buzz
Wishing I could fly
Shaking hands with doves
On the day I die
Fly high

Long live me
In the end we all see
How it ends how it be
Make it to the promise land
Aka “the land of the free“
Though it less likely
Got something
To do with peace