Intro: You know, I don’t care what you’re saying about me.
For I’m not an insecure ***** like you but I do got to thank thee.
For if it weren’t for thy vile venom spitting I wouldn’t have a reason to enact my lyrical terrorism!
So, you only have yourself to blame for this ****, so don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

Verse 1
Uh, yeah let’s talk about it!
Can’t contemplate, the vicious state that contrary to popular belief I’m not a basket case!
Can’t misuse the time I got so here I go to vanquish these fraudulent thots!
Started an unfocused freight train that charged towards the lucid dream because I couldn’t assimilate!
In that time, I was so focused on changing everyone’s snot ridden hypocrisy about reality being Camelot.
I know I’ve also ****** up a lot but that’s something I had to face!
It’s not any of your business so stop ripping off my skin then rubbing in the salt!
I still have a goal in mind to destroy discrimination that incriminates my people,
by putting em on the hot seat.
So now that every one is up in arms I got my chance to aim at the sweet spot!
Everyone is hungry to be the fittest but not everyone has time to think how to be the smartest.
To strike will the fire’s hot or wait for the embers to spark and settle is the true test for an artist.
Who cares about the lines when it was never rightfully drawn in the first place?
Who cares about what spot or space is for you when it’s all been delegated to the privilege of a certain race?
I can only undergo so much disgrace So, sorry but I’m not willing to have my people’s history erased!
Free speech is going to be a ***** for some and a tool for others, I guess it all depends on that person’s poker face.
Inequality is frequent not just in Canada or The United States but every country, province, and common place.

Verse 2
You want the real, raw, unfiltered Classy J well here you go!
Uh, Tell Trudeau to kiss my *** and stop ******* Trump’s ****!
While you’re at it can you tell your father that he’s a ******* stupid *****!
Also, totally forgot but can you tell Kim Jon un when he’s shafting you that he’s a ******* Buffoon!
But’s that’s enough about ******* politics let’s talk about ******* rap artist’s who think they’re hot but really, they so tacky and obsolete like the Zune.
To mister bi-racial we get it you’re into being superficial but’s honestly with you being so focused on being a ****** your delivery showcases the truth that you’re really a cringy ******.
Just face the fact dude that people will only see ya as a juggaloed Dolph Ziggler.
Uh, Now on to the next!
Dear mister Young moolah imma be front, you look like diseased uvula with the lyrical skill comparative to that of an elementary grade schooler.
Now to address the biggest flacky ***** in the game the not so slim shady.  
Here’s the matter Mr. Mather’s you look like a hobo who ***** guys off around the corner,
maybe that’s why you always diss homos.
Because youse a **** trapped in your mommas’ closet,
and if wasn’t for Dre’s hand up so far up your *** you wouldn’t be as popular of a puppet.
Oh ****, Shady you so focused on Doctor Dre and acclaim to fame that you forgot about Hallie.
****, and speaking of Hallie, I feel for you girl because just like you I also didn’t have a dad there for me.
I’m a man of war so every rapper got to get their **** together and better be prepared to me seriously.
For Imma slit their throats and turn em inside out rigorously, and I make sure those tardy cats will rule the day they ever had curiosity.

Verse 3
Just remember my people were here before you, and will be here after you!
And I’ll be here to destroy any of you who dare to pursue native issues!
Or if I’m just bored and feeling like killing you!
However, if I forget about dealing with you, I’m just to busy to properly give a **** about you!
It’s not just revenge, I see it as using justice by retorting with my wordplay to cleanse ya like shampoo!
But I’ve spent enough time dissing freeloaders, for it gives their ego’s too must **** exposure!
I won’t coaster to these composers, for a chauffeur can’t gain an advantage over a soldier!
I wont lower myself to these grouchy Oscar’s, who hunt for Grammy’s;
or as I refer to these events as pedantic half ***’d statements for excepting grandiose toasters.
Why bother, for it’s so annoyingly stupid that I would rather waste my time watching a movie featuring Adam *******.
So, **** this glass ceiling that defines and dictates what makes up a talented rapper.
I may not be a ******* goat but at least I’m confident enough to go out in my birthday suit and retain my composure for being dapper.
That’s the synopsis of my classy brain, and though it may be insane I’m willing to ride this hurricane!
To make sure you know my name, but yet not let myself get engulfed in the flames.

Do you remember?

Do you remember hanging out during the clinic?
We all got on the bus, heading to the clinic. K- and G- tried to make me sit next to you,
filling my seat with violins, trying to force me to sit next to you, but I resisted,
so embarrassed. I listened to my mp3player and talked to K- and G- and Sa- and J-. K- and I played punch-buggy and she got me way more times than I did. You and I  more or less ignored each other. We didn't talk for a while, until there was a break.
I don't remember how or why, but you ended up with one of my earphones,
and we were listening to my music, (thank god we like the same stuff)
and K- and G- came over and invited us to that elementary school game,
where you get in a close circle and grab hands with two people and try to untangle everyone without
un-clasping hands. I just grabbed two people's hands but K- and G- forced me to grab your hands
and I'm sure I was blushing.
Fast forward a while, 'til we were breaking again, all of us from P- High School huddled in a corner,
K- made me sit next to you, elbow to elbow, thigh to thigh. She was sitting half on my legs and you were telling me about the time that Br- ate your pizza and why you wouldn't give him any of your
Mountain Dew that you had in your backpack. You showed me the seven cans you had and the
power strip you brought to charge phones. Then you gave me a Mountain Dew and we talked,
and I was showing you the video that I always hoped no one saw me watching because of how
creepy it is, and we walked to the auditorium and
my heart was running a million miles a minute and my hands were shaking as we talked
and we sat together in the auditorium, listening to our Zune's and you were telling me about
how you had several seasons of Adventure Time on yours and then we watched
"Burning Low", the episode where Finn is going out with Flame Princess and it was so cute
but then G- ruined it by coming over and pulling out your earphone and watching the video for a few seconds. But he went away and we talked for so long and you made me laugh so loud that Ms. R-
shushed me.
Eventually we went to lunch and I didn't really eat because of my hypoglycemia and we talked forever over pizza and Mountain Dew.
Skip forward a few hours, going home on the bus, sitting side by side, singing along to songs, until we got back to the school, hanging out until our respective adults picked us up.
You and I were last, listening to my Zune, and I was standing on the feet of the piano, so we were closer
in height and I was petting your hair (the first time of what will be many) and we went outside to wait, listening to Caraphernelia as my aunt pulled up, deciding to "punish" me for not calling in time,
yelling out her car window that my "***** looked bigger." I glared and yelled that I didn't think my band-mate really needed to hear that and she laughed and I waved goodbye to you.
Not long later, Sh- called and we were talking and she said that
you said that you definitely liked me.
One of the happiest moments of my life, until then.

why does it feel weird to say:
zune,
computer,
video game,
in my poems?

they’re normal
for my age
for my time
and yet
I feel like I’m corrupting
a poem when I throw
those wicked words
in

I can mention
the tv,
the phone,
the car,
but not
the plasma tv
the cell phone
the hover car

this feeling of betrayal
to something that has
no feelings
is messing with me
and yet
I don’t fight it

so for now,
sub-woofer,
iPad,
E-reader
you’re not going to appear
on my page
but probably one day
you will
and they’ll be some other thing
that I feel
defiles
my poetry

I use the rage to fuel my fire
I think about my past desire

Despite my love gone lost
It pains me with such cost

I fuel my fire with images of us
I remember all the pain and mistrust

Despite my pretentious past
The dumb bells in my hands, I grasp.

I workout to my own tune.
I'll leave you behind, like apple left zune.

food chart’s coming
plane’s shaking
zune’s nearly out of power
P.A. just told me keep seated

honest truth:
the P.A. interrupted me

I was gonna write an intro
go ***
come back
and write some more

it was probably gonna be crap
but now
at least there’s a little
drama

ring . . . ring . . . ring
Please leave a message . . . Beeeeep*
Uh hey, it's me.
So, I just got out of the shower and well . . .
While I was in there, I'd put my Zune on shuffle, ya know, on the dock and that acoustic version of Such Great Heights started playing and I froze - like, just in the middle of washing my hair and started singing along. And then I started dancing, like a slow, spinning in a circle dance, like they do at weddings cause I was pretending it was our wedding. So I was just in the shower, soap still in my freaking hair, dancing by myself like *******, thinking about our wedding.
I don't know, I just thought you'd want to know that. I think that should be our first dance song.

*click

I waltz into your mind
Pull your strings and make you sing along to the song that I choose
Make you flow to the rhythm and tune
From my iPod, you’re still rocking that Zune
Sway to the hurricane, the typhoon
I launch in like a harpoon
Lampoon you and spoon-feed you
Soon to be freed by my lyrical seeds
Watch them bloom and announce the doom of your premature tomb
I will bring you back to life
Open heart on the surgery table
I will skillfully wield the knife
Heal your tears and all your strife
Relieve your fears, show you the light
Where there was wrong I will make it right
So do not put up any fight
Just come along for the ride tonight

You're amazing, honestly. I don't think there are enough words in my feeble vocabulary to actually describe the feeling I get with only hearing your name. I'm just so appalled and fascinated that you exist in any way shape or form. You, are one of the most impressive individuals I've met and know. You're pulchritudinous, statuesque, gorgeous and not to mention very pretty. Every time you speak to me I've got the feeling that I should be in the middle of a football field replicating the final moments in "The Breakfast Club.".

What I wouldn't give to have you return such feelings, because I'm almost positive that they've dissolved over the remaining time since April 27. Honestly, I feel stupid for remembering the day. It's a memory I don't plan on losing anytime soon. I remember that you had your little elephant purse with the pins. It was the day after you lost another piece of Jewelry at Dalton's house. We had been at a small event right before that even, where I relinquished the information that I'm easily entertained by toys made for infants. The fact that you have the capability to consume an entire watermelon and can read anywhere, whenever you want to is fascinating to me. To me, that is probably one of the most badass traits I've ever seen. Hell, that would rank up there as a superpower in my opinion. Congratulations, you're a superhero now.

I remember talking to you next to the fire with only the cold surface of the guitar and the warm feel of your voice. I remember talking to me on the staircase at AC3 before you and I left for rock band. I remember how you took my hat and I took your Zune and we traded back when we arrived, but I felt bad because I thought you would probably like the music better than a stupid hat.

I remember walking over to the stairs at AC3 and you telling me that your favorite book was "Triss." I have strong plans to read as soon as mentally and physically possible. You told me that Leif had asked you to dinner. I didn't know what you said to it, I knew he kind of creeped you out a little, but I was jealous of him because he apparently got to say it before I did. I remember a month earlier, March 23, when I got to hold your hand. You had that silly, yet fantastic red plaid shirt.  With the little silver bow in your hair, that I remember acknowledging as soon as I saw it. We walked to safeway and got cookies and I kept talking because I was so incredibly nervous that I would say something stupid and you would think I was stupid and then I would feel stupid and then, at that point, I would be stupid anyway. But we walked and talked back to the gymnastics building and we sat there and watched the sun fall down and become silent in its own way, as we were loud in our talking.

We got back and we just were around each other. Although, out of all of that, the talking at the gymnastics place was one of my favorite things of them all. I kid you not. We then went to rockband, where you promptly put two sharpie smiley faces upon my arm and the back of my hand. Which was really cute, I thought that was awesome. Once POTC started playing, you pulled me by my tie and I sat down next to you. I was incredibly nervous about doing that, but it out of some unforeseen force, I managed to actually sit down next to the most beautiful girl in existence.

That, Mon Cher, is when I held your hand. It was so swift and so adrenaline inducing that I probably could have run an entire marathon of marathons, no matter how unlikely it was that I would survive such a long run. You looked at me and smiled, I remember that perfectly. You smiled such a genuine smile and you squeezed my hand and I thought to myself “This, is my favorite moment.” That’s all, not exactly sure why it wasn’t something more powerful, but as I thought about it, it held more meaning than what I had thought it did originally. Sadly, as time went on, you stopped conversing with me as much as you did and that scared me. It’s happened twice now and you have told me that being friends is the best option. You believe that, I know, I believe that. But I also believe that the meaning of that says that you’re no longer interested in me.

Saddening, but it makes sense. I don’t think that I really should have had a chance from the start. You’re capable of doing so much better, so much overall. I will probably end up being jealous of every guy you like in some way for a little bit. Silently of course, but I will be just a little bit, jealous. I wanted to love you like Carl loved Ellie in "Up". I don’t know how much emphasis I can put into what I’m trying to say. If I had to use eight words though, to sum it up?

Tres Belle, Mon Cher, I'll miss you.