A POEM BY BEN PARKER - 12/6/17

 

fuck you

and fuck everything you

stand for

you should have taken a seat

when you had the chance

to see my craft

instead you escape with

the only safety raft

and now im just stranded

with me and my thoughts

isolated in my imagination

the only toys in the box

are self loathing and

procrastination

my style has no classification

not even my mumma

understands me

she says i treat the home 

like a whorehouse

cause i got more girl friends 

than a little girl with

her barbies

the only thing im puttin my lips to

are bottles of bacardi

im tryna build my friends up

they dont want to see me giving

my friend lost over a stone

knowing me

dont make me out like

im a villain

im giving to the kids 

no robin hood

i wasnt stealing

​

i ran all this on my 

own energy

inspire the kids

letting them in on my recipe

the main ingredient is effort

thatll bring out the potential

the flavour of the dish

that you bring to the table

dont listen to labels 

listen to your heart

because those fabrics on the rails

belong to businesses

but your body is an art

decorate it with the complimentary

that brings your colours out

not fibres that leave you insecure 

and watered down with doubt

​

i wish i cried more

maybe then id be more motivated

i feel guilty when im happy

i dont deserve to be letivated

am i better six feet under

am i better off out the picture

going through my contacts like

"delete him and ditch her"

​

i spent hours making something

that no one will ever hear

the vibrations may be heard

but theyll never surpass the ear

one day theyll see the message

i was tryna share with a generation

my 4 alter egos

im my own civilisation

that all lead back to the main theme

procrastination

​

i feel like im failing my loved ones

and putting the wrong things

first in line

i dont wanna lose those closest to me

i wanna see them age like wine

addicted to socialising

but maybe being alone

is when im truly fine

​

but being alone

creates these moments

just me behind a screen

though the keyboard hears a whisper

the internet hears a scream

i am crazy camp deluded dizzy

unhealthily lean

i dress distastefully

my wardrobe needs a clean

got trainers from 2014

so i dont forget everywhere

ive been

​

the sights ive seen

the creatures

the colours

the mountains

the oceans

the friends and the lovers

walking through urban streets

and countrysides to sounds of

Glover

​

the man cradled me in times

of struggle and despear 

his art had me in his palm

in a time when the world was unfair

he explained the world in zeros and ones

with music and screenplays and

stand ups and puns

id been immersed in the internet

and the new face id been shown

i felt my confidence passion

independence and wisdom had

grown

i felt like with all the potential in

my pocket i was destined for a throne

2017 and because the internet still in my phone

with slightly shorter shorts

and a slightly sarcastic tone

this is the year i define myself

what do you have to call your own?

​

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