fuck my last bar my mind closes in on the bigger polaroid~
i tell u son to listen to my bland speach like a solar noise~

FUCK MY LAST BAR rage grips my mental strings and plays a gangsta tune~
a melody of tombstones and bones of heaven's ghetto but no slang to use~

order in chaos i like how you use a repeating theme in an obviously chaotic poem....it was if you jumbled it up so the reader would have to search out your pain......good drop a different format with an excellent flow and hidden meaning my type of poetry.......1