As I use this pen to express my distress
I contest all the rest who claim they're the best
Put they ass to the test and they failing OH YES
And that moment, at best, I realize that I'm blessed
No more stress, my gloves are at rest
No more throwing lyrical blows to your chest
Causing cardiac arrest, or instant death

Although it may seem you're better
Stop creaming your imagination for it greatest…..
LIE

This pen I hold as an open vein
Ready to be released to bleed art on this open canvas with lines
Writing my every vision which has to be released
Like Michelangelo to the Sistine Chapel
I then realize Pen and I am the artist
The paper, clay
Waiting to be molded to my every desire
With out which my work would be…..
A good idea with no one to think of it.