Imaginary canvass
A nobody ruling from an imaginary throne,
Tucking away his delusions in his schizophrenic home. I often wonder who attached my soul to this bag of bones. The existential complex of a boy from the city of Alcapone; Slicking his hair back with his special pompadour hair comb. One with the flow, wandering where ever the wind goes. Come midnight, on a Lakeshore Montrose beach stroll. Feeling the sand in between the web of my toes. Overly conscious deity trying not to lose control; Lost milky way soul plunging into a black hole, The light of fireflies always guides me back home. Phoenix feather engraved onto my tombstone, Resurrecting in darkness, yet illuminating heavenly gardens. Celestial artist cursed forever with catharsis. I beg your pardon, Canvassing eternity with residue of garnet; crystal incarnate Trying to sparkle and shine before being sold heartless. |
I'm bleeding verbs as I try to capture fleeting words. It seems absurd but it's rather much like needlework.
I've seen your work. It's quite alright. I can tell it apart from others on site. I just don't know why you bother to write. Your father was right. Now come to the light. Overcome your fright. I have a feeling you might. I was never one for sharing poems; specifically those, involving hair combs. Be aware of my tone. It seems, I've stylistically grown. I knew you would emerge from your chrysalis home. Hope your diamond purchases help as you transition alone. Oh yes I know that your reading; I can tell that you're there. Seeing my sweet words is like remembering the smell of her hair. This is just the first of many; I'm selling my wares. Drop a comment, so I can tell that you care. Wait, don't. If you didthat I might fall of my chair. It'd be too much for my soul to bare. I'm fully aware that you're done describing love and war. Always look for something more! Me? I prefer selfish gore and capitalizing lore, over helping mom with chores. I'm kind of sore. @JESODIST ripped my liver out. He's a connoisseur, but I think he got kind of bored. I'm in a tournament and I hope I make the final four, but that would shock me to my core. I can't be sloppy anymore. I can't be @Sinacog and write about Nazis anymore. Ah well, it's been quite a treat. You might believe there's some fight in me. Looking forward to your next drop; that'd be a sight, to see. |
You still got it GOD
I actually forget your other name, but god something. Perfect flow, concepts spewing from individual lines, you know...shit that gets accomps around here, Come back and play. I need a vet to smash |
This was nice fam...Like Adonis said your flow is tight as all shit, great wit goin' on...Kudos.
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