Poetry,
It's been too long. I would write you a song or a sonnet but every-time I'm on it, I'm in it in a bad way. Like Eminem with nothing to say. I got low goals, but I'm not flying solo. Fry me up and serve me with some **-hoes. Wait a second... It's taking over me. The writers a hopped up and hyper playing with the paid piper. A cipher. A mockumentary life story. Never boring but never going for the glowing glory. That's the gory news. If I got to let loose, I got to refuse soon. So poetry it's been too long. I can see why you never call. I mangle these words on the cell. I'm trying to sell out with salad fingers for dinner I give myself the creeps. I take amazing leaps. I swing from tree to tree. If he sees you when you sleep does he get constantly bored, or does he dive in and engorge on the course of your dreams. Interesting it seems. Skin deep.