PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

treckin down the street, thats were my feet are headed

red bull to my face hits me like unleaded

instrumental in my ear lyrics soon collected

into a form, thatll spread like the infected

i walk past a man begging for change

i say arent we all? more with the passing of days

he replys got somethin to spare, my pockets emptay

plastic card holds my fare, i was gonna give away

i go to my prison, were i make my living

fake smiles to those giving, paper for provisions

trying to keep a pro kinda vision, never missin

the good stuff through out the day while rippin

up a beat, a poem, expressin my head in

all its weirdness, writing out what i hold in

stop holding and let this be my regression of madness 

cause i swear i dont know what id do if i never had this