Breaking the LimitsA Poem by Not here
There's only so much
I can say with twenty-six letters. I try not to touch all the wounds that could never better. Some things are best to be left alone all the time and no matter how blessed we are problems will still arise. So give me a second and a little longer rope. I'm tired of reflecting my reflection as I see it. It's hard to cope with the thoughts inside my head that continue to torment the brain that's half-dead and looks more like an accident. I got a few more lines to spare in my quest 'cause I keep seein' these signs that tell me I'm the best. You wanna know what's funny about the signs I see? The people who already put them up on the street are the same people who continuously try to degrade all the true accomplishments I abide by. But I'm not a bad guy, even if my brain is sorta awry. Some days I barely get by on all the different things that I try but now a days I tend to rhyme the same themes over and over so why do I feel like I'm actin' so shy when all I do is let bombs fly and almost every time they're a bulls-eye. I'm sure you would easily agree that I'm one step from a catastrophe and if I scream they'll call me a banshee because I'm banned to a certain degree from trying to exercise my emcee talent that I've displayed already. And if any of you people saw me become the person it's possible for me to be you might never be absentee from the shows I put on regularly. I regularly put on a parade that's more like an arcade and is close to a charade except it's not full of shade and continues to blockade all the feelings that are betrayed by the people who crusade to destroy me in the shade where nobody could have weighed all the terrors showed towards me. I need a hearing aid because I hear a fire brigade coming to put out the fire I portrayed in every possible way while I continued my tirade towards the people who left unexplained all the crimes put out to the dames and everyone else who was unmade by their critical critiques that were paid in the worst ways possible. They swayed all the hope and desire that stayed and turned into hope which was arrayed throughout their lives as they played. I just wrote those twenty-three lines and each of them matched and perfectly rhymed. I guess that makes me the Michael Jordan of putting together lines out of boredom. Just imagine if this poem was made entirely because I was bored of sittin' in shade under the tree that continually gave me more inspiration every day. So what could I do if I really tried to make a masterpiece directly from my mind? Could I change the world with just a couple lines? Or is this poem just another one of the signs that tell me I'm on the road to success? Could I do better or is this my best? Am I gonna improve and work on my groove that I got back into not too long ago too? I bet you the world that one of these days my flag will be unfurled and I'll be swept into a haze. I'm about to transform this world beyond the skies because this lightning storm is just starting to rise. © 2015 Not hereAuthor's Note
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