They call me this; they call me that
The *******; the rebel; the one who won’t crack
The scarred; the forlorn; the apathetic guy
The one who speaks where silence falls flat
Turning the void into lyrical chat

Yea I’m that guy
Who’s used and abused but still finds his track
Who’s bruised and battered yet always fights back
The scars on my soul are stories I own
Proof that I’ve lived and never bowed alone

I’m that guy; who dives into storms
Finding the rhythm in chaos and forms
The poet of pain; the bard of the streets
Spitting out truth where silence competes

Yea I’m that guy
Who questions the lies and rewrites the past
Who builds with words what’s meant to last
From broken dreams to skies untamed
Every verse I write I sign unashamed

I’m that guy who wields the pen like a sword
Cutting through noise; a sharp vocal chord
The lover of love the fighter of wrongs
The voice of the voiceless in unsung songs

Yea I’m that guy
Who’s knocked to the ground but refuses to break
Who gathers the pieces that others forsake
The pain in my heart becomes fuel for my fire
Each step I take lifts me higher and higher

I’m that guy; who lives in the ink
A rebel who dreams who dares to think
From soaring heights to the gutter’s embrace
I map the world with a poet’s grace

Yea I’m that guy
Who’s used and abused but still finds his track
Who’s bruised and battered yet always fights back
Writing the day and rewriting the night
A New Age Sage; yea I’m that guy