Free this verse

whil3 i kiss th3 sky with my stick.

while i make for the ground,

and do pound it with my

pumped up kicks.

See please any of you wanting nothing but 

to see the love of the beat

rythm of a punch and a rhyme. . .

Haha come on,

bring it on…

Whether or weathered fluctuation of imabic perserverance,

in this pentameter of epic proportions.

to ebb this irksome fever of meters,

to be is not,

yet it is,

not to be.

Aack u adage you.

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