Deep and overstood, Jesus Christ


The sands fall through this hour glass.
The delicate element shatters as a pebble tries to squeeze through.
He holds in his hand, the heart of a lass.
As his other hands stirs, the potent brew.
The sound of a rattle snake in Africa.
Is just another cue to get down.
At the end of my life, they call me Sir.
I got knighted when the queen was last in town.
Haphazard thoughts, boulders are tumbling over each other.
Memory loss, like my past never existed.
Like a rolling stone, no moss do I gather.
My flashback is gone, it does not matter how much I resisted.
Caffeine, acting like a drug, wannabe cocaine.
Hands shake, like a fever, the anger rises.
Pain in my chest, give me that Novocain.
Handshakes, like a victor, values become vices.
Evil follows shame on you Hansel and Gretel.
Cinderella is the slipping beauty, how stupid to wear a glass slipper?
The big bad wolf is out, Red Riding Hood, you better settle.
My shadow remains nameless, but still steps with me.
Darker than I ever thought it was, both the pot and kettle call it black.
My heart’s wings have been clipped, stumps are all that be.
This hellhound’s bite is much worse than its bark.
21st century, so I put my stylus to the monitor.
I bleed my soul on these words, they come alive.
I am the only one left at the tower, cleaning up like the janitor.
As the sirens get louder, the heist is done; I jump out and hope to survive.

I open my eyes and the lights sting them.
But I cannot close them; I don’t want to slip away.
This life is more precious than any other gem.
Hence I choose it, anytime or day.
I swing till the last hole.
My locks all over my face, I need not shield it.
I bowl till the last ball.
My locks open, inside the candle has been lit.
So here I sit and continue to ferment.
With age, like wine, I become more valuable.
The search to find the lost me, it’s so fervent.
I can’t help but laugh at their hope, so gullible.
Life gave others lemons, I got the lime.
So here I stand awaiting my last wage.
Like Musiq, I am a victim of my time.
Like music, I am a product of my age.
I need a doctor, Still Dre.
I have on this white color straitjacket, Eminem.
I need some water, still dry.
My coat of many colors, M&Ms
So up this ladder I go.
It better be endless and my strength limitless.
Or I will prove the wise men right and end up down below.
Gold, frankincense and myrrh, they bore their gifts.
They followed the Northern star to the manger.
Blood, sweat and tears and still my poetry lifts.
The same star they followed keeps me away from danger.

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