Hidden in Plain Sight
Pablo Gomez
There isn’t a hidden me
a secret me
or a real me.
There isn’t a dark corner where I sit and bleed.
I do not deny that corner’s existence.
I do not deny crossing yellow tape.
Though, crime scenes are only a slice of me.
My heart brings passion to my skin.
Pumping pride and love through my arms.
My blood is my own.
Pure of a young bully’s bullshit.
Sacred in my shrine.
Hear my rhythm.
I don’t hide behind guitars and pretty violins.
If you don’t like my percussion
You’re asking for a concussion.
a secret me
or a real me.
There isn’t a dark corner where I sit and bleed.
I do not deny that corner’s existence.
I do not deny crossing yellow tape.
Though, crime scenes are only a slice of me.
My heart brings passion to my skin.
Pumping pride and love through my arms.
My blood is my own.
Pure of a young bully’s bullshit.
Sacred in my shrine.
Hear my rhythm.
I don’t hide behind guitars and pretty violins.
If you don’t like my percussion
You’re asking for a concussion.
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