Becoming a Writer #1

A guy cool in high school interested in writing but on
Shaky grounds because flaky clown try bring me down strong
Was a dumb fighter trying to become a writer was my fixed dream
At sixteen, itch for quotes only thought rich folks write books it seem
Obviously not real work but the deal perked inside my head extreme
A victim of ridicule and prank kids in school have blanks for self esteem
My soul revealed the nitty gritty from the feel of the city struck like a hammer
Had distinguish features like English teachers wanted to know the glamour
Of grammar, like a farmer I loved pure corn and sure adorn other
Writers, thought of myself as a deft writer a stealth fighter brother
With words from a topsy turvy society with a sloppy curvy variety
Of dreams, see true thugs galore some blue blood and poor a propriety
Of the slums made me wanna write, when I told folks had to have bold quotes
On paper, in order to be pure and divine had to mature like wine after
A time, gave a way of thinking I stay linking to fiction books the master
Friction shook my life as a student, walk fast gather my thoughts in mass
Fought in class to get good grades, just to have a calm deft identity a task
Like John F Kennedy as a candidate had a plan great to succeed and write
My emotions became sicker and soft, the notion flicker off and on like a light
The words was clear after my third year in high school the possibility took
Hold and I could look bold into my carreer, path straight like pages in a book
Later started to write and unite verses with crazy glue became gravy true
For notebooks, started to thrill kabow! until now English was a boring crew
Of words