'The Worderer's Verse Vomit...'

The Mass Worderer's  
Dead on, free- in' bein...'

Alive for these days
The sun rise, ebbin'
forth, a view-guise as
new art spew, spit flies...

Like a surgeon so precise,
these verses disperses
move see, spinnin' reel nice...

Aaahhh, this ish
is just rollin' along
a Wiz, n' his wizardry
the words sing like a song

'n unto this history,
some say will the well
how soon til  it dry?
but I gassed the Mass
of words to prolong...
 
Within its a scope
for none can fore-see

The Worderer
spillin' ill slang like
it's gold n' hot pee...

I be, a sturgeon, servin'
words up, like caviar
no virgin to the heat-
mine hopes for each
sigh,  'pon a shootin'star...

Relapse, I collapse
back into this glare
gazin' insight to incite
the versatility of words I bare

To invite mind's might
invokin' adjectives n'
pronouns, that attach
to the capacity of these
verbs I now vomit n' share...