I stood so firm giving out my speech to people who really inspire to me people who care I felt like I was rare up on the stage and giving condolences to all my fans nice life but would clash wood smooth wooden chair but thoughs going wild on the air drank champagne looking at a crowed all there to celebrate me I new this was the start of something, something very sparky iv never felt so alive it was about time I waked up and shine but would clash wood wearing my Italian suit looking like the person on my mirror wooden door I was trying to open but thoughts all over thr door would this happen...??? Kept asking me questions but I found the answeres while I was celebrating ..
This poem is about me thinking about my performance which is gonna take place live( TV ) every time I came across something wooden I would wounder and think so I named it would clash wooden