Wednesday, August 6, 2025

some poem


my style and finesse is weak

flooring this shit at its low

bipole this like a flagpole

demons dont wanna talk, and angels just wanna go

taking its toll, i hit a hard flow

car wreck, semi truck, mini jet

hit this pop, pump fluid thru my veins

even if its red bull

when i sleep my heart stops

wanting to beat off thoughts, nonstop


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