wit a pen, i wanna be all that i can.
Actually all that i am.
a crook gone zen
prophetic and tend,
to bend the laws of physics with words on end.
you see... i'm a rook your a pawn,
with my metal drawn
my mental's gone.
damn i'm something like a settled storm
the devils spawn but takes form in a wordy poem.
yall ready know this,
if i were to focus ,
id morph into moses,
n open up some oceans.
you see im mad at the heavens,
leaveling the clouds while im sending ,
sadness in a glass message,
my mind has been messin,
with art collections n stalkin parks for sujestions, from the universe...
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