Man I am this,
I been done that,Like a mechanical autobot Transformer, Smooth and sleek ride of Bumble BeeOr Shaft cool and yet rough and toughScooping all the ladies and upholding justiceThat is my mask, which is sooo tightBut when I write, all that bleeds is true life????My mind fashions masks for me to go ahead and try outPortraying roles of motion captured stop actionAs my ego is usually the director and executive producerWho me I’m just another underpaid over-hyped actorBut when I write my own screenplay, Love is all that comes outHave I found my true habitat, curbing my appetite for destruction?Maybe a commercial for true Divine inspection thru proper retrospectionWhen this pen moves, my life is seen differently from what I rememberMaybe my writes are espionage, from the eyes of an InformerCuz these here writes, speak to me in a way of lifting me highYet not lofty, as what has been written is just food for thought to eatHungry for the expression, but basking in how these writes are reflectingCleansing and scrubbing and rectifying layers of icing on birthday cakeAmazing at the flow, but ego wants more fluff, and info-mercials to sellI try to force my pen to comply, but all that comes out is truth in light…