Write a rap about why you write

 
As I ascend
with my pen in the wind.
Ready to let the words fly,
little pieces of my mind like bullets in the sky.

Shoot Shoot Bang Bang
I have to let them out or I'll go insane.
Falling down on the paper like raindrops,
full of pain drops.

My life my way, I'll heal myself
or kill myself.
But, it'll be on my own terms.
I can do it alone.

Put my emotions in check.
Trying to fix this wreck,
Of a life that I've created, devestated, complicated, and reevaluated.

Changed my ways,
looking forward to brighter days.
But, hey life's a maze.
Amazing if you find your way.

But, it's a fact
that
I need words to flow.
With rhymes that blow,
up like a bomb to keep my soul intact.

It gives me the peace I need,
to cease the tears I bleed.
To stop the hurt i feel,
I don't take a pill.

Just my will, no psychiatrist bill,
will kill this deal, I'll just seal this deal.
Start to feel, and see what's real.

Yeah the price is steep and,
it burns deep.
But, talk ain't cheap,
It's for keeps.

Once the words fly out,
like birds fly out.
You feel the weight lifting off you
killing the demons that possess
As you confess,

your sins,
You're the loser that wins.
This game of life, is not a game,
it's real,
it injures and it kills.

Karma has a bitch slap you can feel.
Nothing can save you,
you just learn to deal.
Start to heal.

Send the past back.
a personal blast back.
As your conscience adds up,
But it doesn't add up,

Cause now you've changed,
rearranged,
taken blame,
accepted the price of fame.

Just trying to be me,
Live free.
Have my voice heard, write it out like a letter.
Make me better.

To keep me well rounded,
stay grounded.
Not to re-offend.
Not wasting borrowed time again.

The answers don't come when your sinning.
But, flow freely when you're winning.
This war will keep you in check ,
and either you'll wreck

Or you will start the 8th inning
By proving your worthy of a new beginning.
Start it all over, not taking bets.
New life, no regrets.

There is a lot of craziness going on in my head,
It’s a mad fad I’ve had for everything I’ve said,
I’ll spill some ink in sync to keep my emotions in check,
But I think sometimes I stink at it I sink my pen right into my neck.
So I have at it,
I take a stab at it,
I spit a sick slick flow to show everybody I know how to bleed it well,
I let the words pour like swords gore in war
    when the truth can be an inconvenient hell.
Poetry is my therapy because I’m not paying for psychiatry,
Shit is expensive, so I rather write pensively sitting underneath a tree,
I let my demons out for little bit so that I won’t lose it,
Or else sanity will mix with vanity I may not know how to choose it.
The duality in me is an abnormality I try not to fear when it appears,
Personalities take turns to reign my brain split by hemispheres,
So while one verse may be worse than the first when the last was the reverse,
I’d say give us a chance to work through this terse blessed curse.

Connected indefintely  
The metric system cant measure me  
Im too long
With a dangling ego  
My pen is too heavy in the game  
You couldn't pass the levels my mental is configured on  
Its Eating habits is like a python  
Wrapping the ink around  
 tight  
On my worst enemy  
Slithering close to my poetic friends  
I cant be the hair while the tortoise wins the race  
I'm curt in reply, when asked  
 is there room for one more as good as you?  
No, I dont suppose they have arrived yet  
Or  
if alive have they  
 even contributed thoughts that will get them considered?  
Statements I never retract  
Im filthier than a pigs back  
I go HAM  
In these sheets  
I can't be silent  
I can't be discrete  
I want everyone to know me  
By my leakes  
Now is a good time for you to get an uber  
 
I'm executing this page with  
No mercy  
I have the keys to the cage  
 
The mortality is more than a few  
As I sneeze I already said fuck you to the chosen ones in the pew  
Its hammer time  
I'm going to nail it in  
The best alive  
Written with a gel pen.
 
(Spoken word poetry Copyright of Red Curtain$ 2018)

Words all jumbled, like spagetti    
pen at start, now I'm ready  
word of love to impress a lady    
melt, her cold, cold, heart    
    
She that grass and you the rake    
try to groom,  to ordered state    
polishing to delicate or intimate    
somethin smokin, somethin tart    
   
But she's the bitch that has you fettered    
writing lines that cant be bettered    
hook, line and sinker    
in a pose, like Rodin's Thinker    
no stop button, when you start    
   
For that mile was so uncharted    
hesitant you stumble thwarted   
that leap of faith, in rhyme or pro's    
"And that's Rap", my soul exposed    
mindset all, in that impart  
 
Now I'm here I sit and reason  
for that "cool" I bin seeking  
Aladdins cave of treasures gleaming  
to change my life and sense of meaning
self emancipation in that form of art
 
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