12th
Look
Guys and Biddies. I throw spears and make tears dribble down your face like its a race to see who is the biggest baby. Your gonna pay me one day to buy my rhymes off a shelf and thank me for the time i spent on yourself. Here’s an excerpt of a poem about you (you know who you are [or you dont… thats awkward]).
Look accross the room/ and stand transfixed./You wish the horrid wound/ would leave you fixed/ but fate is not so kind./ Instead the road must twist and wind/ your soul to never find/ that which was torn/ and shorn/ from the bloody womb unborn./You have no father/ but on your own to push farther/ to find a mother that barely cares for her own daughter./ A horrid bitch/ A willy witch/ A love unseen/ in a deforested ungreen.
NSH
Firstborn Son
NSH
