They say they're too scared to dive in.
Climb off the high platforms back down.
Too deep to even fall in love.
If they had goggles, they can see what kind of event it is.
Tighten my lines that won't motorway us away.
They say I need to shorten my verses that aren't so epic.
Make haikus sonnets for the broken hearted.
Make protest verses to overthrow the government that will never happen in a million years.
They say I should talk less in order to be heard clearer.
Keep a short mind.
Have a short attention span.
But I love the Homer Odyssey.
The poem is inspiring.
Such Beautiful words ignored.
Ugly performers Thurman stages into cheesecakes.
Apollo is the god of the golden lyre.
It shouldn't be 2 D, but make it into 3D.
You want me to except mediocrity for what it is.
Be a gimmick the rest of them clowns.
Be a cliche for them, so I can be another spitting image chewed by the same mouth.
Become stagnant as I'll mount nothing but the pavements made for the homeless.
This is why my private world works with precious stones made up of experimental chemistry books of philosophy, intelligence and such.
This why we are stagnant and don't believe in ourselves to be true.
I'm sick of taking advices that screw my brain over.
I'm sick of doing what is expected from them.
Your dictionary of are nothing but a textbook agenda mocking the standard English.
They prefer it when it's short and to the point.
They get bored easily, become sleazy they stare at the performer like huh what who when why?
That's why activism is put on a pedal stool.
Keep them happy by ending it in two minutes.
Well they never write the singing innocence in versatility.
But command it to give Britain what they want.
At the moment it feels like a cage is holding me hostage on this land.
Tell me how to act when on stage is lightning the show.
Dress appropriately because beautiful people are watching.
It's not my fault my DNA is too creative.
It's not my fault my mind is open to possibilities than an average human being doesn't do.
It's not my fault I chose to learn the essence of poetry.
But you know what?
I should be close minded as well.
That helps make life easier.
I should be hard to please that's a great idea, go for it.
I should say "fuck poetry".
"Fuck the creative arts".
"Fuck everything that's breathing in my path".
Long live football that's what they wanna hear.
Dumb myself for approval and the writing works don't cry anymore sentiments.
They say your verses are too long to hold.
Lengthy as the bottle can't hold anymore juices.
The world is contemporary poetry, in modern settings it captures journeys like motorways.
So why slow down this 2 fast 2 furious when everyday is a rush on the road?
A rush to get to get to the otherside of Ireland.
Maybe I can travel your mediocre minds to Scotland.
It's not the fact I'm boring you.
They're just too long for your minds to manage..
Life goes on and on.
The universe goes on and on so what's stopping it?
I like to be different fro the rest, make sure all skeletons are out of the closet not leaving a single skull behind.
Your opinions are inadequate.
Your motivation is inactive.
Your words are the prototypes.
So why wait what I'll say next when it's near by?
Does it all have to be a cliche, predictable to notice what's coming?
Your short attention span is just like the rest of them, you follow short stuff.
Cos it's straight forward to understand as a crime novel.
If freedom of speech is wrong, I don't want to be right.
If happiness is right, I don't want to be wrong.
Maybe my verses take up too much room.
Maybe they cluster ears who don't care what I have to say.
Be more funny, be more quirky.
Less serious and more cheesy on your toast please.
Be like a Londoner they can relate more it's about the city.
Maybe I put on an accent so I'm questioned about my identity and race.
I just have a lot to say.
So much to tell.
It's your dissertation on race, social awareness, sex, politics, religion, media and spirituality.
I know it's a speech I'm spilling, a presentation with no projector to lecture stories and myths.
Your verses are too long and they just lost the message in your pollen.
They just sneezed in the middle of broken petals, swept to feel like it's never been collected.
Who are they to determine the way I drive these verses?
There is no ghostwriter in my notebook.
I know where my verses are going.
I know where they swim.
So don't try to stunt my acceleration to high mountains and beyond.
Finding your truths are more important than what every individual thinks you should be doing.
What will it take to be the one?
Cos my greatness lies up there where nobody can reach.
