Beat Down Poem by Justin Kopp

Desperate women pave my path
And in my shadow I see the devil
It looks as if I've lost another round
I keep feeling as if the upper middle class mentality really has the upper hand
I can't live like them and their fire
Spreads through dry fields like a curse
And the fireman can't keep up
My conscious is a reckless one
I tend to keep it to myself until all hell has broken loose
Then use it for damage control
But that doesn't seem to work well
Is it poetry or poison?
Am I an artist yet?
I can't hold a job
Some call that failure