My past is keeping me stifled.
Whispering all the things I could never amount to.
A Cruel reality.
The ghouls are sick of battling.
Whatever was under me is shattering.                        My foundation scattered.
I rush out quick to face it, like a king’s gambit.

Tap my fingers on my desk,
Creating the beat that I step to.
Seeking some sort of pattern
Or comfort to attach to.

I’m writing even though my tank’s empty.
I’m rhyming though my heart’s heavy.
And painted Dark as the night sky.
Or as dark as where my mind is headed.

Or darker than the bottom of the kitchen skillet.   I reach for greatness
I can feel it brimming.
Or brewing like the witch’s killing.

No more sitting here rotting away.                   Knock some sense into my head like a medal game.
Go against the status quo, tryna renegade.
Set new paths, trailblazing like I’m Chevrolet
I’m in my Dame Time prime, I live it everyday.