He's writing his unhappy ending
but the dictions not fitting
he's clenching his fists
then tearing and ripping
I'm wrinkled than crumpled
when fumbled I tumble
into a garbage bundle
where I slumber a little
next to an empty bag of Skittles
a dribble of Pabst
soaking the lining of the bag
the stench drifting through the pad
the pile flowing like a geyser
which repulses said writer
pulling drawstring tighter
he throws the pile in the dump
of the slums he calls home
all alone self-proclaimed punk
the junk an allusion
to the illusion consuming
his person
delusion and confusion
disconcerting he's hurting
for purpose
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In an attempt to add flavor to his hyphy existence, Sid writes his blog in the form of a 24 bar rap verse. 1 bar for each hour of the day! the blog is updated daily!
1 comment:
I really really like this one. The flow of the first 7 lines as well as line 19-24 is awesome. This rhyme swells with emotion, very well done!
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