I don't write poems because I'm worried you'll think they're "good"
I write poems because I can't do heart surgery
I write songs because I need my poems to sound a different way
Not because I'll get laid if I read this **** at a slam or after I play a set
If you're worried I'm just in this for the praise or the money, don't
I'd have it better as a doctor or a lawyer if that was my goal
I write because I have nothing else burning within me
Except for the occasional case of heartburn or lactic acid (I am human)
I can only observe and report, and augment, and adapt
In a world of chaos, in a world beyond qualification and adaptation
Where truth is a perspective and frameworks cage our knowledge
I can only assess outside of this cage,
I can only claim land in fallow soil, and attempt to quench myself with mirages of Oasis
I'm trying to drink from a dribble cup, my **** keeps spilling out
I love fiercely and speak brashly, I can't keep it contained
so tell me how full of **** I am, or tell me I'm convoluted
and I'll keep trying to quench my thirst in a dry spell
The desert will listen either way.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 6:22 AM UTC
I don't write poems because I'm worried you'll think they're "good"
I write poems because I can't do heart surgery
I write songs because I need my poems to sound a different way
Not because I'll get laid if I read this **** at a slam or after I play a set
If you're worried I'm just in this for the praise or the money, don't
I'd have it better as a doctor or a lawyer if that was my goal
I write because I have nothing else burning within me
Except for the occasional case of heartburn or lactic acid (I am human)
I can only observe and report, and augment, and adapt
In a world of chaos, in a world beyond qualification and adaptation
Where truth is a perspective and frameworks cage our knowledge
I can only assess outside of this cage,
I can only claim land in fallow soil, and attempt to quench myself with mirages of Oasis
I'm trying to drink from a dribble cup, my **** keeps spilling out
I love fiercely and speak brashly, I can't keep it contained
so tell me how full of **** I am, or tell me I'm convoluted
and I'll keep trying to quench my thirst in a dry spell
The desert will listen either way.
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