I talk about breadth too much 

The way two syllables touch

And how I rush my thoughts or mush my

Feelings into corners of my mind

Heck, I talk about this mind of mine

Like I'm been reading between my own lines

Like others know my language isn't straight from my mouth but

This bank of thoughts trickling down, down until

I spit out something out


Hell, I talk too much 

Because I have this river flowing and

Whether she goes fast or slow she

Reflects my opinions of the light

Bouncing off the people around me

Articifical bulbs over their heads and I 

Give her gates to spill out complaints and I

Flood the whole town

Till the water goes down, down, and 

Seeps into the ground 

Makes my mark but 

When I wanted things to grow? 

I thought they would know these

thoughts of mine

When I renewed the status quo

I assumed they would just

Ride with the flow of reason but

Now I'm sinking in my big ol' mouth

I had too much to say

I look in too much 

Thinkin' I'm such an easy person to understand when

They wouldn't know me anyway. 

This poem is about: 
Our world


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