Dear Y,

Y wont you talk to me anymore,

ever since X came into your side,

when W left a month ago,

now V has a great friend,

U didnt even call but T did.

Now i am hanging by a thread.

Left alone in this cruel blank page,

where of all you since A began counting to M.

Am i not that important, N didnt even winced at me.

The most O about it that P made sense what Q left me.

R made a call, now S is getting sick of me.

Please dont leave me here. . .

“did not you tell Z, to sleep it off” says number 1.

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.

The future

. . . gave me my love,

. . . gave me my strength, 

. . . told me to be inspired and to look for.

It did tell me that,

worry is a problem men do.

worry is the addiction that all “I” do,

worry is the love of things that i serve under.

I ask3d,

What do i have to  do, in order to be at peace?

It glared,

it got mad,

furiously shitting and shouting. . .