This poetry you are reading,
Came to me one evening.
This is just more than a poem,
It's a revolutionary anthem.
This poetry was sent from the deep
Via spoken words in my sleep.
This poetry was baked in the furnace
It's elusive, nobody will ever trace.
This poetry is so hot, it'll burn you
And probably shock you.
Yet it has the propensity to uplift,
So it's not something to play with.
This poetry will slowly creep
From the sole of your feet,
To the crown of your head.
This poetry is a didactic bread.
This poetry is a glitch
Yet it was sent to teach.
It will grasp your attention,
and stretch your imagination.
This poetry is a proclamation
Of our collective emancipation
From total mental slavery.
This poem bears the scars of bravery.
This work is the embodiment of artistry
And the blurry lines and meters of poetry.
It's a poem, it's music and it's a painting.
This poetry is a testament of my calling.
#IBpoetry© #Bassapoet
<<5.7.2019>>
Jul 6, 2019
Jul 6, 2019 at 12:16 AM UTC
This poetry you are reading,
Came to me one evening.
This is just more than a poem,
It's a revolutionary anthem.
This poetry was sent from the deep
Via spoken words in my sleep.
This poetry was baked in the furnace
It's elusive, nobody will ever trace.
This poetry is so hot, it'll burn you
And probably shock you.
Yet it has the propensity to uplift,
So it's not something to play with.
This poetry will slowly creep
From the sole of your feet,
To the crown of your head.
This poetry is a didactic bread.
This poetry is a glitch
Yet it was sent to teach.
It will grasp your attention,
and stretch your imagination.
This poetry is a proclamation
Of our collective emancipation
From total mental slavery.
This poem bears the scars of bravery.
This work is the embodiment of artistry
And the blurry lines and meters of poetry.
It's a poem, it's music and it's a painting.
This poetry is a testament of my calling.
#IBpoetry© #Bassapoet
<<5.7.2019>>
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