I'm pouring out my thoughts on to this paper.....letting my mind free for the next caper.

I've been a superhero and a lovesick man.  A few stories about putting a ring on that special woman's hand.

A story about suicide and my last ride....sound similar.....but they are not the same.....different car same lane.

Will eyes ever see this creation by me? When I look at my comments.....it says none......I'm not Drake so I'm not on one.

I guess I didn't move the crowd with my words.....if I read it to the masses would I even be heard.  It's absurd that my fellow poets just don't know......they are the gasoline that helps me go......and when I blow it will be because of the fire they ignited and kept lit......

all because they didn't consider it robbery to read my ****.  I apologize for that last line... but it went with the flow.....I just get frustrated when people don't leave a kind or even a bad word.......especially when I drop a piece that I think is great and I really do.....when I create it......it's definitely for me.....but I share it first with you....

The first eyes to see my baby....but you act like she's ugly .....looking at her face....and retreating in disgrace.

I guess you never met a poet who was poor ....but had expensive taste.  That's why my pen stays attached to my waist.....

I wrote this poem sitting in my car after I got off of work and now I'm in the parking lot.  TheTeacher penning jewels and looking to hit that jackpot......

Comments raining when I hit.......I quit! Take this pen and shove it!