Hell I wrote #73

Eternal bleeding,


And sweetish females.

The smoke is retail

A needless detail.

Sling skins for a living?

Hardcore poetry,

Music, hitting

Head charging my phone,

Hold court

Im on the page,

locked in,

Beach with palm

Wish it was you writing on the page, a poem instead of me.

Drinking with umbrella straws
Risking it all,

Jungle of concrete snakes and killers,

Vision through a telescope,

This Hell I wrote,

Its just words,

Words of power and now they hate ya.


Caviar never, but rather a cajun salmon black fish

no snail, simple to please.

Met her, a bad one, dimples in her cheeks.

Drifting in thought, because now it’s different I thought,

Raised off what I record,

Profit, doing whats trendy and putting a end to me to.

No room left in this town,

For words, writers and crowns,

It’s a war of stars,

Game sold,

Voice of who?

Entertainment and language,


Entertainment world language,

Live by a code, should be sold

I live it.

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