Childish pain laughed at again, individuality gained
persistently outwardly cold, a mothers claim
just a painted ugly name from their tyrannical reign
close quarters fame, maimed, I pray for what remains
complex understanding rewrote for the laymen's
of the laying under the ignorant laymens
so I spit out against the 'lay' hunted by the countless mens
my blood is the ink in these pens, each verse drains these veins
this brain is ghostly claimed from the laughing masses dubbed, sane.