With no fuzz no trouble
Aiming no crown or label
Imma boy in the bubble capable
Of scripting a fable outta rubble
Grooving in the depths of my dreams
Where even my silence screams
Cold and clinical in my lyrical
Against the tide, I surf invincible
See my mystic squid on papers
Subtly swimming in several layers
Call it squid or this poet’s pen
It lends my mind a voice again
With ink and the appetite to think
I write and paint my logic in link
Wealthy in words verbally rich
With the treasure of words, I stitch
Weaving my story knit by knit
As time leaves my grasp bit by bit
Before I turn into a pit or lit
Gotta make every moment a hit
Though my mind n’ heartstrings are split
Still can’t won’t quit, want the best of it
Till I’m down in the casket, calm as shit
I’ll be my own God in this flight’s cockpit
We all are aberrant from the ways of this world in one way or another | Sub-Editor at Smartprix.com