My poetry jam tastes great on burnt toast
so i had a great pot
ate it hot, it wasnt
a disaster, cuz i am
the master chef unlike
wyclef jean he's a real
mean rapper unlike me
i just gotta use the crapper
set my bowels free
gruntin out vowels
sittin like a tree
puntin words around
vision cant see
the ground hittin
my face in this
place it aint easy
this poems a disgrace
the rhymes i can
chase but sanity
i cant make
like a shake
cotton candy
for the ears
the logic brings
tears
cuz it just dont
flow, you get it?
y0.
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