I haven’t been honest with myself

Everything’s fucked up,

I mean look at the fucking government!

Who the fuck had the authority,

To call me up and question me,

Why I write poetry ?

Why I write poetry ?

Who the fuck.

I haven’t been honest with myself,

I mean look at the state of my house,

I couldn’t afford draws,

Theres furniture I couldnt afford,

Lived with a mattress on the floor,

Whilst pregnant ,

They called me a whore,

He controlled my every move,

But fuck it I shouldnt have to prove,

They tell me I dont deserve kids,

They tell me I should be dead because of him,

I look around I see,

Homeless , drunk, and disorderly,

People sleeping in bin liners,

Defecating on the streets,

People Raping people behind bins,

Pulling out knives,

People dying in,

The streets they’ve been born and raised in,

I haven’t been honest with myself,

They tell me that I shouldnt have kids,

They tell me I better close my legs,

Like I’ve been giving out myself,

They say I’m a cunt and I’m a slag,

I dont deserve kids,

Hes the one who got up and walked out,

Hes the one who said he wanted to start,

A family.

I’ve haven’t been honest with myself,

Who the hell pushes someone to the edge,

Uses sex as farewell,

This is Hull its starting to get colder,

Please tell me there is more out there,

Before I end it all because I wont care,

Hull daily mail will exploit you,

Surround the hounds to destroy you,

Call you names and down you,

To the ground and drown you,

This is Hull.

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