Rhymes written before work

Inflation is rising, Africa’s Temperature

Personal messages of the really sure
why not write half of your battles
singing your raps @ high calibers
perched on the top of porches and benches
morph into the butterfly
from the pupil’s eye, tremenous-afy
make up the hard parts and stake poetry
what we ate where philosophies of terminology
brb, we lol’d to rofl’d
hopped over obstacles seen as impossible
nothing too intimidating or unapproachable
unless looking @ the environmental, social, economic variables
over instrumentals, we get sober meandering on the asphalt

Mixing the butter, flour and salt
the recipe for reciprocity is realizing half of it is not your fault
the new cuisine changed the mind frame of a young teen
he opened vaults to a treasure,
that lowered blood pressure
love is the answer, music, and movement
we groove to groovy tunes drinking smoothies dancing,
no time for gambling
except the daily life we are handling
playing the mandolin the man told his kin
“your stories are worth more than gold or anything”
one in the audience was listening
lips synced to a vibe that kept us alive
our tribe is the pride for tactful fact checking packs
studying wraps
knowledgeable of our place on the map
adapting to the habitat
to better the free
with wings of feathers to be more exact on their landings

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