I strike faster than rapid mass transit
questing to be the last man standing
manufacturing manuscripts managing you fascist bastards
manifesting visions through this kaleidoscope
heavy thoughts colliding within these notes
sitting on idle hopes, while uncertain versions
of what lies behind the curtain
as the words murder murmurs through
the perverted chambers of the burner
I was a boy taught to become a man of intrigue, lemme keep my sanity
Till the well runs dry
For now I’ll wash and rinse the kinks
from my inner demons
let he who falls first, be one to cast a stone
to discover that he is the owner of a new glass home
my invisible tears can be…..
viewed through a telescope
as conflict and dramatic tension becomes
surreal for real
initiating fires that create a slow burn
so conflict is unavoidable
but when do I get my shine?
when most actions are tarnished
within the lines of sins I’m crossed with
should I join the ministry
where they practice, preach and impeach the hell out of me
or seek a new brand of rebellion
on the doorstep of my left aorta
where I can freely
swig back a cold one
in the corner alone with no one
who would’ve thought that the assassination of character
could strike at any time
behind the solid black door of defense……
and that door was wide open
so why fix what’s already been programmed
dated….
slated…
for release
sort of like receiving
the right kind of love from the wrong kind of bitch
time to improvise the vices
pressurizing self punishment
attaining to the one-step up swagger
cuz “Lawd knows I don’t need this shit again”
these corner pockets of my life
isn’t guaranteed to be filled completely
but I call my own shots
like billiards
then work overtime
to outmatch my last act of brilliance
wow! I liked how this rymed & it was good shit