CHALLENGER'S RAP

• I take this pen like a shovel and I dig so deep. Paper wads wiped up so many tears oh the secrets I've weaped.
• So many of them but none ever mine to keep kinda funny insomnia keeps me awake when I sleep, I can't even tell what's for real and what's a dream, besides so many times neither are what they seem.
• I use these sheets to blanket me and bring me warmth and comfort, but at times underneath them also coldness is uncovered.
• I can flatten it out and fancy make it look real neat but no one ever knows what really goes on underneath.
• I spend so many nights in them some soiled some clean each their own timing holding me together in between.
• Every syll'y and multi ambiguous meta, has a more defined meaning like puzzling together what letters.
• Every verse points like a compass which direction my mind is heading sometimes I found the best ways of learning are also the most regretting.
• Is regret even how I should say it's just another way of setting, some of us take the roughest paths to go where we're getting.
• But I have my own GPS in my palm and through every storm there is always the calm, for every curse there is also a psalm.
• See where I'm going? Most just think I'm blowing all I do is spit when i should be 'blowing' fuck that here's their advice, Keep Rowing!
• Back to my sheets where I feel at home and at peace, not belonging anywhere else it seems I don't need anyone else on my team but your more than welcome than I may actually be deemed.
• So here I am shoveling out all this dirt, so much happiness earned through hurt, they say I spit fire but I sing like a bird.
• I guess perception is a pain, looking at my 'rap sheet' I'm actually very plain, but by the way the stains look musta had my blood drained.
• Sometimes it does feel like I wanna set my notepads on fire, rip out every spiral an spinal with plyers, boil every ink drop and say fuck being a writer.
• But it's just not me even if they say what I write's so sloppy or she sounds like so and so what a copy....
• I couldn't care less, cuz it's a waste indeed if I spent even a dab of my energy on every 'time-lapse' who tried to 'body' spirit me..
• I swear I wanna just stay in my own pages, cuz all these counterfeits be the one setting wages, when all I ever hear from them are some recycled phrases.
• I'd pay you 2 cents to shut the fuck up, most of these judging are fake and stuck up, break others down cuz you fail to develUP.
• Words really are weapons, intentions lessons, and questions, all their own meaning and ways they set in.
• How many words can I fit in one paragraph, how many pairs can one have, like adding syllabal's is lyrical math, what ya hear about that?
• Seems like most just want the credit on the cover none give a damn about what's up under, oh but they so quick to want the lightning and thunder.
• S o I write boldly one name on this only, not like the Bible though it is hole'y, but I do remember everything those stories showed me.
• Looks like a graveyard with so many thoughts I sifted through, seen so many chicken scratches I got scars from those too.
• Not really any particular intent, don't seek understanding just a airway to vent, even if the facts are no one can ever comprehend.
• Can't say I never tried to keep it together but loose leaf paper also floats like a feather and infected paper cuts only kill you when they fester.