But my thoughts since are ever scattered and my OCD is now in three.
Between the beautifully painted horrors of life,
Poor choices, my love and every other man's wife.
My poetry simply can't be!
No one can be for everyone, and that one is coming undone, the one .. ...
Some say my poetry is childish, some say it has a teen vibe, but my poetry is for me.
Strangers look between my lines, they sit, read and dine while I rhyme.
My poetry simply can't be!
I observe, I smyth this world and it's width and the length and everyone's lies.
Scriptive and riddled with truth I fiddle in ways to say goodbye.
Simply metaphoric, kinda iconic that my super sonic mind is free.
My poetry simply can't be!
For you, they're all for me!