By Arcassin Burnham


Ya peeling at my heart here,
I'm ready to retire,
I'm ready to retire,
But more so inspire,
They coming after me with buckets like
I'm on fire,
Like I'm on fire,
I'm hotter than your sire,
If my eyes on the price and my head held down,
They will still take ignorance and I'll still
smile.
And I'll still smile,
I ain't going nowhere , you aint running ****,
Tired of you lames trying to run my ****,
I must be the most hated person in my
city , if I wasn't then I would be living happy with
friends,
Just cant seem to find the real ones, just
ones that pretend,
Bend,
All the rules just to get what they want,
I'm the one that don't end up with happy
endins',
walking around smiling in your face trying to flaunt.

I done had a long day, ain't gonna argue
with you people when I get home.
I was facing battles in my life where I wasn't
really happy with being grown..

And I.
Would like.
To say.
My peace.
With out.
The long.
*** speech.

My drum has perforations; now flawed
Mylar parchment once taut on bone
Leaks prose; but each metaphor pored
Percussive skull reverbs teeming tome

Waning instrument yet waxing lyrical
Tympanic threepenny opera still plays
Snare split - verbose ****** spiracles
Whip quick flick of offal; tongue flays

Well weathered but - oh still sensual
Drum bongo crammed with lyrics learned
Skin leathered; worn – still beautiful
Spills tales – well told – well earned  

©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness – 2018 – All rights reserved)