Writing in colors
Practicing the wrong art
Illusions that discover, set me apart
Feeling too washed up, at such a young age
Could I say something real? **** turning the page.
Writing in Fonts
So that I may distract.
Its like smoke and mirrors, you’ll miss what I lack
The fancier this seems, the more elaborate the scheme,
You’ll think you saw talent, I’ll just blind you with bling.
Writing in sizes,
Milking the diversions
Fancy rhyming, bold assertions
Witty one liners, and maybe a clever rhyme
Will I ever give up this job? Oh, maybe in time.
-Taylor
Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 7:30 PM UTC
Writing in colors
Practicing the wrong art
Illusions that discover, set me apart
Feeling too washed up, at such a young age
Could I say something real? **** turning the page.
Writing in Fonts
So that I may distract.
Its like smoke and mirrors, you’ll miss what I lack
The fancier this seems, the more elaborate the scheme,
You’ll think you saw talent, I’ll just blind you with bling.
Writing in sizes,
Milking the diversions
Fancy rhyming, bold assertions
Witty one liners, and maybe a clever rhyme
Will I ever give up this job? Oh, maybe in time.
-Taylor
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