im gonna write a poem, to show you all I do belong,

in a winter world, where the pace is long,

and  I  keep on writing to keep it strong.

where the world, is empty I am filled,

with every thought you can think of still

and i realize this, and no dollar bills,

but i keep it on still, with style and skill.

yeah, my mind is rampant raging with energy

you can break down the walls around me,

but cant stop me,

feeling like this is the end of mediocrity

soul to the prose, to the flesh and the body.

yeah, i can sink into a feeling like better then dead

but whats that worth? my blood bleeds red

and though  my soul is green and unstoppable,

quitting the dream to me is impossible,

cause i keep it going with the world, i see

got me on the ground, on bended knee,

like a world is a waterfall drowning me,

but see i can breathe under water,

write these rhymes, to remain a martyr

for the reason, is the dream I see and I show it

you might see me in the shadows

but yet i’m still vocal

like a motorolla 20/ 20 vision

got dilated eyes, cause of the words

and the rhythm, and the bass and the movement

cause dudes like slug and Ev, bring me to

the point of losing it, cause i hear each word they spit

and think god damn, they words legit,

and so easy flowing from the pen and the track,

and i got the pro’s prose that all I have.

maybe one day I’ll rhyme, with a microphone

but my mind says to leave it alone,

and make my mind heard, by writing these poems.

cause the world, you might have me in a corner

cause you make me take pills, while the others are stoners

and some are slaves, and others are owners,

and me, im a poet and its never over,

got two angels resting on my shoulders, and two soldiers

both lazy and dilated, I watch the world through them

and just wish i had the meaning and the movement

like slug and Ev.

but it  might be each word, i write down in my notebook,

but still i write down each thought for the sense of

what its worth, been keen since birth, been clean and dirty

writing these rhymes, whats the worth to me,

everything, cause im a poet, and clear like murky

water, but I guess its cool to remain a martyr.

thirty years old, and my skill gets stronger

wave my magic wand and turn wine to water.

just another jagged thought by jason.