A little on the inside...

Location

Took an hour to write... Enjoy :)

 

Poetry is an art, my imagination's the canvas.

The lyrics I breathe're pure, but bear evil thoughts of a savage.

Demonic practice; without a leash I bet I murder the masses.

But naw, see me? I'd rather chill and stay civil.

Wake up every morning, sipping tea when jotting my scribble.

So unique in such a fashion, they'll never share my potential.

They lacking pixels, while I'm spitting waves that's snapping the Richters.

What is competition? It's unheard of like Ni**as playing the fiddle.

A better analogy is Christopher Reeves learning to dribble.

I'm real, you bluffing like Cuba's missing it's missles.

Mixing Ritalin in my rhythm to get it driven.

I imagine I'm a disease that spreads when I'm feeding off Penicillins.

S on my chest; suit and tie is through what I'm ripping.

Consider it a blessing, I'm the reason you're still existing.

Cuz if it were my decision, I'm endowing human extinction.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741