On the precipice
of turning pessimist
into followers
on the basis
of logical statistics,
I persist flame thrower I bring the heat
Arsonist,
Spit flames when I speak
A weight when I lead
Yawl Sunday lunch  baked goods
Dough that I knead, twigs snapped
I break bread
killed yawl already
shot to the head
lift your spirits
Necromancer, raised the dead
Skills reborn in eye I invest
Poetic vision
Stock doubled,
then  birthed success
A different mindset from the offset
Fueled by a rocket mentality
shoot for the moon
Lift off set, I earned respect
Flipped the script
Pitched my  tent
with Devine intent
its heaven-sent
This my shout at air
my truthful vent