Why is your poetry naked
You couldn’t wear some words on them
What I’m thinking is not in my head
What you heard from me are unknown to me well,
Take me as i am
I’m flawed
Bake me as i am
I’m thawed
The blue is sky
Everyone lied
The truth as been wandering
No one accepted it
Keeps me wondering
Why lying is so sweet
You called me a caveman
Because i grunt while walking
You couldn’t hear me well
Then you called me a walking poet
I was a lil’ bit weird
Cos no one to cover my naked weapons
Who’s gonna wear the bullet
Everyone left unaware

To tell her she is oppressed,
They try assaulting her for the way she is dressed

To command being served,
They try ****** her for the way she was curved

They're the classless that spit upon her key, her name,
For not inviting them freely into her house. What a shame.

Their violation forced humanity to live early life in a tomb,
Unaffected, she carries on, as she carries the world in her womb

I'll cover me
even though
you liked me cover free,
I'll camouflage my feelings
like you masked your fakeness

Her genre,
Honorable.
Her design,
Respected.
Her character,
Dignified.
Her pages,
Well lettered.
Her story,
Unread.
Like a book, mesmerising,
Yet too often judged by her cover.

If my assumptions about him are right
It is going to take more than friends for him to see the light
Jumped gun without stopping to take a second look
Scared before I had a peek under the cover of his book