By Myself

Reap what you sown,

got my soul searching fore up,

can’t give-in to nobody else,

write my soul out,

let my spirit be free,

use my truest emotions indeed,

where them proud on my sleeves to be me,

mentally i got the same power to be an economy,

it is like talking to myself cause ain’t nobody there,

but all the elements occupying wealth,

and wealth is perceptive see,

out of control finally,

sow the old me resting in peace,

the new is alive each time after times of love,

love fore me is the patience of growth into your creation,

so i keep reaping my reality lies don’t battle me,

no woman exist only perceptions of myself,

through an optical lens we call tele-vision,

the channels switches as my radar scan visions,

i have my own book of change,

my own calligraphy without elementary styles,

a sine language without compiling fouls,

i ain’t in this game of life to be busted up,

roughed up magma volcanic bubbling lava,

if you want to be touched we can happen,

as the definition of meltdown sunset is coming,

people give names of everything as a value,

but i’m on One thumping writing my own truth,

and not assumptions without associations clique,

go against me to the fullest while i maintain by myself,

withstanding all the pressures of gusts compressing me down,

uplift them all two feet under stand over by the strength of two calves,

intact with the core of my gravity from me guts to be exact,

i have no culture as it is just me by myself.