Steady frying to get the minutes U had me,
Owen the dare the Folks would rally,
The force as sly the six would clap,
Unaware of her anger from sources of jabs,
Checking my notebook as Mama responds,
Still baffled by the jury of how it comes,
The Latin oil of what u need,
The dark conspiracy of how I breathe,
This all tells the last days of it geekin,
The state of mine in the eyes its seeking.