Listen to woke toxic poet with his
stable truth, stapled on terrified mind
Imprisoned in my own imagery
Trying to escape the picture
Screaming...
"Change your pace"
my shadow is warning me
I am as mean as the clock hand
hanging on a prison wall. I'm buried in self-bully
Screaming...
Constantly knocking on heaven's door, but death rejected me before I drown in Jehovah's teardrop
Am scarred but not scared of shard souls
Old souls are a dancing lizard tail, no need to be scared,
my soul is a tomb flower, a sweet premature insulin
Who is to disorient woke toxic poet?
©lamin
L