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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2289696
I was thinking about words and birds, and then it burst, verse after verse.
Words,
but they are waiting for the birds,
to burst from my every verse,
do they think these words won't fly or immerse?
But have you heard?
My every word,
is like a bird,
flocking together in every verse,
touching every soul as they nurse,
or have you heard?
The story of the girl who had every Gucci to Louis purse?
All was hers, cos her man was worse,
she had been the big bang of his Universe,
until his words just came out to curse,
and this is when they heard my big bang verse,
and once you see the big verse you never go adverse,
cos these are all the birds of the words that are fly,
and these are the verses of the people of high,
so to the enemy who challenges me,
these are not my words, these are flying birds,
going to and fro, coming free to spree,
so do not attempt to be the escapee of your destiny,
it will only be considered your attempt to flee,
and if you could only but see,
how these brave birds are flocking carefree,
with their wings wide open to a spreading spree,
with their views of the perfect perspectives of to be,
then how can you flex against these brave birds that are flocking in the verses of the flying free?
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