me

I spit my rhymes and I am good
I write the word that flow from my head and I am good
Have you ever listened to the word of a child innocent and pure there word are ignorance and there sight is small and I am good
Have you ever herd the word of a drunk slurred but profound knowing more then most people ever will and I am good
Have you ever listened to nature for its rhymes and law and the wind throw the tree is the voice telling me I am here the words are the poet not me I am but a vessel for him
I’m not like you in the artistic way I’m a loser a geek a young republican a signal 19 year old christen I write to see from another prospective and I am good
I am but a jhone doe in my works I mean nothing I come to prove no point I have no name no identity no past no future I am but that moment right there and nothing more and I cease to exist and they say I am good?