You're always in position, to voice your opposition, Pulling out the slick persuasion, dealing dope on all occasion. Your dope is lost hope, and you don't even know, How your poison doth kill, and how your words make breathe still. It isn't peace or loving kindness, but a blurred and burning mess, Your dealing out the violence, on hell you take reliance. When you spit rhymes, and split time, to spew your petty crimes, I sit 'n hear you whine, while you take this innocence of mine.

After the Rain

I beheld you after the rain,
Not a ripple in the concrete puddles.
Light drops of drizzle, dribbling driplets of drops,
They interrupted the gray stillness
Darkening hues covering the soaking bark,
Limping the green and reddening leaves.
I took a whiff of the lilting fog, and saw you under its branches,
Its wispy wavy locks tickling your face.
Brushing them aside for your cloudy gaze.
I whispered to you, lips parting slowly.
The ground squishing underfoot,
Squelching and squealing, soaking into my shoe.