Gone Poem by Marcquiese Burrell

I don't owe you nothing
Couldn't, no, I wouldn't
Be the side order in your life
I hate the game you're running
And it will not be
What you paint it into
beautiful to the eyes of a stranger
Where the art holds them astound
Though the origin in comparison
Doesn't reflect its nature
Of an authentic content
And it's wrong
But the crimes been committed
It'll be found when investigated
There the jury
Will become familiar with the lies
Is the new normal to be inconsiderate?
that is what my friends is telling me
When they hear the infliction of pain
Reflected in the majority of the story's
If only you were the one
Turning loose, I've overcome
What the angels witnessed
Have made them cry
cheating and deceiving me of love
And it's a waste of time
If you can't do right
Keep saying this but I am going listen
what the eyes shall see repeatedly
can not deny
becoming familiar with the lies