each time i talk to you.
Knowingly you cannot even talk anything about your shit.
This head ache is gone yes,
but my life in a pinch is a stress,
that never ends,
where it leaves, my moutg follows.
Dont let me be a square
in your circle.
Lets try triangle in a circle,
so i can circumnavigate my angle.
A mass of gas,
circling, around my head,
never a square nor a cubed,
to put this sphere within.
The grey told green,
there is a deeper level if we combined.
The green replied,
no way, yellow wont allow it.
Then, id mix blue in so we can be more stronger within.
said the grey.
There you were,
Here I am
knowing what to say or do.
Now we cant even embrace our own selves just because.
Than being together,
we are separate in mind.
cometh the lil one can link us like that.
She was, is, will always be that communicator for us two.
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.