Cold War

I’m left feeling cold

by this apparent war.

A crew torn asunder,

yet this thunder

has no storm.

This broken boat

has cap sized

under size large heads.

Kevin and Perry like kids.

Not heaven sent,

no holy smell.

Just spiteful noseless Parkers.

Peter pied pipers pepper pot,

is a kettle

black, tying a knot.

Like a Windsor,

but you’ll never be royals.

Left feeling flushed,

this lush needs soap.

Dope clean bars,

fresh new rhymes,

past times tick away

off the clock.

Facing away from featureless creatures,

with monstrous energies

and beastly vibes.

This beastmode scribe

writes a paper,

an essay.

Viewing your news as spam,


I’m not on the take.

No corrupt MF transmission

my mission keeps me woke til the AM.

I’ll slay ’em.

Don’t need payin.

Cos it’s not about the money,

but it is about change.

So I’ll resist,

until fuckers desist

and stop.

I’m hammering at heartstrings

and they’ll sing all the notes,

In short,

my hand will write,

my words will fight

and there will be blood

boiling in that kettle

you call black.

Fuck your nettles.

I sting back,

Like a bee.

We could have shared that flower.

but you cross pollinate for power

and you want it absolut(e).

Like Russian vodka.

Gushing like Niagra,

about the fall.

You prats.

Everything you do like a pregnant pause.

Everybody wants to be a cool cat.

But, you’ve left me feeling cold

and that’s that.


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