My Poetry

There's way too many people in here, like a slum in the room,

And there will be no rice in the air, until I'm jumping the broom,

When I come in the room,

Hear my word and they assume,

That I make good music like Kid Cudi, Man On The Moon,

Can't wait to get a fast car, make it go zoom zoom,

Take you on a trip with my thoughts like doomed on shrooms,

Never liked what my father said so I spoke up to holler,

Till one day he grabbed me, choked me up in my collar,

Don’t like to show the stress so I choose not to bother,

The tears have a race down my face as I pray to my God Father,

So I get on my spaceship & head straight to Mars,

Maybe then will I be able to sleep amongst the stars,

This corrupt world is for keeps - it's ours,

And time seems to drive right by me like fucking cars,

But to stay on track these rhymes keep hold of me,

These are thoughts compiled in one story called...

My Poetry