Thursday, April 21, 2011

The Flow

I have a way with words that not many know
Riding the waves of the rivers I flow

My gift is the ability to puzzle the pieces
While rearranging them so I don't jumble the thesis

I'm scattered with ideas of what to say next
Writers blocking me with a cross in the shape of a hex

Delving into my conscious seeking the succeeding rhyme
I'm cutting it raw so I don't spoil the lines

The cleaner the substance, the doper the high
But the method of entry deciphers what's implied

Conventional wisdom says to be humble
My ego would buffer it and ready a rumble

Trying to emulate this is like playing with matches
I'll light you on fire until you burn down to ashes




















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