Lyrical Outbreak

I don’t enjoy writing poetry, but poetry enjoys writing me,
And each time I script words kindly, painful tears burst out free,
…so I express myself freely, until the moment my ink runs empty,
Then I vomit letters, that form words that are built to make sense,
I get enormously tense, each time I form the next sentence,
I like to play with words and puzzle it into lines, (to build excellence)
But it’s not easy to put sweet words, into bitter rhymes,
I’m bored out of my sane mind –now I’m lyrically & insane, combined,
My friends left me behind, because Saturday was there night to dine,
Instead I feed off poetry, which is the only way I get mine,
Call me junior Mos Def, because I make the deaf mostly hear death,
…free the blind from the unseen, and feed the addicts words full of meth,
It’s too hard for my rival to find their path, so I let them catch their breath,
I’m waiting for another lyricist nick, so I can finally put this text to rest,
I’m guaranteed to outshine any bitch in this script, try to put me to test,
I’m innocent like a bird and fly like an eagle, until you mess with my nest,
Yes, I’m trying to confess, that I’m officially aiming to be the best,
I’m not trying to impress or be more then less I already Iz,
Ebonically I flow, lyrically I’m blow,
Ironically you know, exotically I show,
…there is nothing more to say, off I go.