The Miseducation of Daisy Wilts

I'm am made up of dust blown up to a being

My skin red like dirt

Hair as dark as midnight

Short in stature

Vivid in heart

I part ways like moses

And grow like moss

The inner workings of my mind is

Made up of

Galaxies of memories and fantasies

Casually taking and giving

My mind is made up hip hop

De la

Da wu

DA tribe

And the essence of incense

Left by the leftover aura of soul  

Visually I enjoy the baroque

And take in Caravaggio to a late evening breakfast

Dressed in jeans and sneakers

Hair wild like basquiat

Value of a warhol

Presence of a Pollock

And Demeter of a poet

Seamless and unforgiving

Lifeless yet yearning for a spot

In your conscious

Stressed with gray hairs

Life long learner and sinner

Bless to go the places and spaces

To see the unknown

Live like kings

Endowed in sports apparel

And bucket hats

Only lusting to be heard

Music aged like wine

Only best to be served by vinyl

And kept in crates

I'm a soulful aristocratic

Rich in mind and thought

Not in pocket

Family know me as Lex    

And friends know me as king

But you can call me Daisy Wilts


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