Texas Three Percenters

Access I was the test, and you failed. I was the best then you spit nails. I was productive 'til you exhaled. I was the empath that you impaled. I was respectful, regretfully scheduled, expecting some simblance of mutual levels of human compassion and faithful endeavors to elevate others and lift up our brothers to paint them in colors that flatter their druthers, encouraging them to trudge through what they suffer and come out the struggle with shine and with luster, the polish of tragedy that turns coals to clusters of diamonds and rubies and emeralds encrusted in scars that remind them that breathing is better than not... But hurt was all I got... But hurt was all I got... BUT HURT WAS ALL I GOT! I gave you chances, ignoring the dances of passive harassment you thought were advanced, that I caught at a glance, then dismissed in a stance, idle hands never tracked, let it fade into black, and forgive and forget, I forgave without hate and I never bit back, but you whacked and you cracked at the shell 'til it smacked of the stench of the hell that you stack in your heart 'til it slacked and revealed the attack in the dark that you planned all along, but your front foot fell wrong, and I ducked, and I dodged, and I desperately tried to convince myself what you were not... But hurt was all I got... Hurt was all I got... Hurt was all I got... HURT WAS ALL I GOT! - Freedom Foxx