"Poetry is lighthearted, fun, and pretty!" says the teacher
well this student says,"FUCK THAT!"
For all the times I've been pissed off, let down, upset, wronged, estranged,
pissed on, spit on, beat down, and trapped, there was poetry.
My life is the canvas as I use this paint brush to unleash this heat
this fire that arose inside ,the fire they tried to hide because they were terrified.
Poetry that flows off the tongue like silk, and then hardens like sheetrock, when I open
another can of this pure, raw, uncut Poetry.
These words are here, to inform, persuade,and to explain.
My words weren't meant to be sugarcoated, watered down, and bleached up.
These words are nothing to play with.
Poetry is my tool
and with it I can construct the most sick verse
infastructed by profain foundation
Poetry is harsh
poetry is cold
poetry is hot
poetry is bold
poetry is beauty
poetry is gorgeous
This system of words is branded as just figurative
but won't be limited by my prose and blank verse.
Fuck surrealism, and FUCK abstraction, these words will not be used to
stand for justice.
The world doesn't have time for another fairy tale, and neither do I.
I might not rhyme when I want
I might not illustrate my words as I intended,
But I'm still gonna speak
and my poetry will be there for moral support.