Restin' Piece, Poet
To each their own vice Turning my words to tourniquet I smack my arm twice I plug my power cord in Cause God knows I'm not living If it's not reflected in my content Content? (happy) Contempt.. (disregard of) CONTENT Is the new conscious I never wanted this I just wanted a voice So I traded my pen for Swipe And a talk-to-text that can never seem to get my words right I schedule my thoughts for at least three times a week To make sure they see my face and hear me speak Otherwise they'll probably forget about me by Friday My traffic counter says my highest views come by Thursday So I have to make sure to keep them thirsty for my words before the weekend ensues Because that's how this thing is meant to be used To format my life in away which appeals to you It's me, yes Filtered pleasantries, Somewhat, yes Regrettably, yes But mostly me Tailored in a way for you to digest With ease I'm an artist, I'm a mom, I like to help my city, ...