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Old 01-04-04, 07:45 PM   #1
fgee
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Posts: n/a
Death,of a sort..

IP:

http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/sho...713#post1051713

http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/sho...754#post1051754

http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/sho...807#post1051807

.


Words have left the page, letters without envelopes
Ink tears stain my face expressing what the sender wrote
The ink well's dried up and with it my expression
And as I walk past I kick the full bucket of depression
Start of a recession into an introverted dreary mind
The cogs of thought bereft of liquid scribes and grind
To a halt ,sign impatiently waiting for a fountain of fluid
But the floods have run another course Biros druids drew it
I'm in a parched pit where the ghouls that haunt the hour glass cant shift
So I dig with weakened wrist deep within myself..
A ball point of stealth
But its tip is no spade and the earth is in fact flesh
It merely jabs at a sorrowful sheet of white with an ink proof vest
Perhaps I lost respect and a perspective of my inner thoughts
I forgot that paper and pen merge willingly, they need not be taught
So I reach in a drawer and meddle with a new sword
I snap the plastic case of the old and let the new run its course..

…all over clean sheets

you can lead a clenched fist gripped by a pen to paper
but unless it is willing…the scribbled speech becomes forced labour
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