What I Could Say?

 

What I Could Say?

I can say a lot 

But I get stuck somewhere in between phrases 

Going in and out of phases  

So I’m spicy like mildsauce 

But my tempo is caunjan 

 

So I say less 

I don’t want to offend you 

So I get stressed 

Instead of thinking of my needs 

And my happiness 

 

I cut off my own words 

In hopes of appeasing you 

After a work day 

And the daily grind 

I hope I can get through 

 

I can say a lot 

But I get stuck somewhere in between phrases 

My content is untouched 

Like a newspapers in the hands of millennials  

Doesn’t get attention very much 

 

But I’m still here if you need me 

A form of information tapped out by tv 

But now progression is easy 

Dialed out of the box 

 

And into the mobile devices 

Hand held electronics

Are more like addictions 

We have yet to acknowledge as vices 

 

Till we ask the clerk… 

What the price is?

To the fiend 

It is priceless 

 

I can say a lot 

But I get stuck between phrases 

Getting caught on what medium wages look like 

Instead of asking for raises 

 

They got us caught on war of the races 

Never knowing what the true devil’s face is 

Because privileged people ignore prejudice 

Benefit from the system yet don’t wanna seem racist 

 

I can say a lot 

But I get stuck in between phrases

I spend my nights

Trying to fill in the spaces

Love always, Esha ❤