too high to comprehend
all these lines are comprehensive
pensive with barely any incentive
like everything reflecting retention is more or less for pension
I ain't trying to be real
nor am I trying to be felt
I'm just myself // unconcerned with trophies
or even shelves...half these kids are just shells of their formal self by all tales
necessarily...I wouldn't mind melting
like the only real prizes are trap lands,LSD
& animal pelts.
like its the 18th century...or the 1960's...everyone just trying to fit in// tune in,turn on // drop out
I mean people still scared of witches
I break bread with em...run rules, brooms & mail out
like any sort of limitation is from the self
not the soul...I cast spells while trailin' off
bold
the full court press is on lock
& all this art is some sort of triangle offense
more or less I always feel offensive...maybe pensive...or like Tetsuo.
Like everything is manifesting itself through this damaged heart
this perpetuative art
its hints & attempts at being smart
the hells,the highs & lows...the pattern dances & glows
the contempt in my heart grows.
like I was meant to roam
find love in every language...on every continent
to let these simple musings help me when I'am alone
staring through the moon roof as I smoke.
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