Young Poet
from McBain Hosted by McBain
Young Poet Young Poet on, the last train home, Just Killing time, writing his rhymes, on the back of a receipt, Writing things like we, aren’t meant to be, Under no strain or tied in chains, But its how it seems to be, It Like he’s standing in the middle of another life, Saying ‘Words come save me now, come save me now’ What hes saying, Is What your praying ‘Come save me now,’ From Five years old, the lie he was told, Was poet skills dont pay no bills, It’s the darkest of deceits, It’s a childish dream, or so it seems, But what if you, swapped all you knew, For a life of fantasy, You’d be standing in the middle of another life, Saying ‘Words they saved me no, they saved me now’ What I’m saying, Is What your praying Come save me now
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