Sonnets

By: Prosperus
Comets of naked sonnets scratch from under my surface
Churnin my words n makin me speak on purpose
The civil service of a poet is to embrace the colliding tensions
To then simply grab the pen n use the weapon of expression
To lessen the fear in our hearts n to remind us we are human
n that we are what we love n not the shit we be consumin
doomed we seem to be but Im not here to preach
about our societys negative, yo, Im here to make poetry
spoken from me to you, take the time to feel the shift
dont be oblivious to the rhymes I spit
tactics of whacky havoc, cracking through heavy traffic
scriptin manic magic, itd be tragic if ya panic
can you handle freedom? Freedom of the word
write for what you believe in n let your soul be heard
I dare you to turn the page, but youll be lost in my wordy maze
As long as I got your attention, lets extract your courageous ways
Face the blankness with confidence n turn off your mind to write
Let the comets of naked sonnets, pour out from your inside
Like hyper vipers peppered pretendin to be positive poison
But more of a flavor, a bit tart of a dark sweet, maybe more like hoisin
Moistenin up the creative juices, we take a sip of originality
No other man or woman can sound like the voice that speaks inside of
me
Poetry has become to be the reason why I live
To defeat adversity with a pen in my grip
n to tell my own tale with the words that I choose
to be able to breathe life into every word, THIS I choose not to lose
with the commerce, consumers, the sonnets, the bloopers
the promises, tumors, n money-bag rulers
the sonnets, n science, the truth, the foolers
the proof, the youth, the used, the abusers
the sonnets, the greed, the sonnets, the consumers, yo
the sonnets, the greed, the sonnets, the consumers, yo
the sonnets, the greed, the sonnets, the sonnets,
the sonnets, the greed, the sonnets, the sonnets
the sonnets, the sonnets, the sonnets, the sonnets,
the sonnets