poetry

Yeah an old soul for real

I didn't ask of the feel

Would you ever stay still

To forsake go, will I kill

serve the wine praying to stay filled

Yeah am fool stuck up in the hill

Stared,ought me to be chill

But *** it hold up till cop a pill

Will the truth gets to spill

On the lies it had to fill

big man will I ever catch a milli

Or stay a cookie

Tell me wachu thinking?

For once self, just try to listen

Maybe its not telling

Thus far can ya tell me quarter half part of your hearin

I lost you at 6

Already found you at 3

I lost me thinking thin

Might find me cause its near