You got like a lil story going on here, I like some parts of it like this.
This hatchet would be buried if I could just find some earth,
Occupied with worth: a client; the worst,
the first slave buying a serf dying to serve.
Mother’s trying to stir while my mind is inert.
Admiring hurt. Grow to inspire a herd.
- My life is my word and I’m more tight-lipped than I would prefer.
But your flow was a bit choppy around here and i didn't catch the rhyme.
Two hands on my chest
when I handle a grey thought sullenly.
Veins, taut, underneath the design of a beast.
Sounds like a broken story. You straight hit the points and went at it directly no fillers.
Nice drop overall.
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