Poetry is named after. . .
Poe- the master of delirious conspiracy,
Serious to the regency of mysterious agency,
Plagiarize envy against popular tell tales of the guy,
Who’d die for words he wrote down on paper and I’d
die to read them, to feed them into cerebellums of the century,
Without proper props they’d forget to mention me, school code
of conduct would detention me for open minded admission see –
I’ve let in a world of trouble, world of hate doubled, world of
art speech bubbled without hurting any two that are coupled,
Gin and rye, whisky high five with my buddy drinking on a high rise,
Open mind, tan our eyes until we’re blind. I feel just fine,
Sign my name to a royalty contracted that I didn’t even know was mine.
He did it too, so I guess we’re in this together, two weeks later get
a letter saying that the mortgage doubled over for the better but as
long as I have my writing I’m still a trendsetter.
Poetry is named after. . .
The future of the revolution, the future verbal Constitution,
and the further upholding of peace and the dilution,
Integration with the world is just called cold fusion,
Who am I losin’? The world? We’re in last because
we’re choosin’. Two shots up, sober down to the ground,
Poe and I call it boozin’. I rip his first manuscript apart and
he’s fumin’!
Hit the sides,a nd make the abroad study wide. We are the
new generation and we're here to fight.
I still love you man!
Poetry is named after. . .
Notorious crimes, forensic mimes, in these
foren-sick times, with my own two eyes I spy.
Poe with me and he’s got my back, got the slack,
can’t hear his voice, but he’s auto orally on this track.
Poe is Poetry.
Poetry is the future.
Suture the wound of Poetry.
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Originally Posted by Da Professor
