I Became A Poet (And Such A Miserable Bastard Too)

Originally posted 2/22/2012.

Ever hear
that crack about
being cracked
that says
that’s how
the light gets in? 

I was fractured early
You’d think I’d be full
of sunshine but

thank Hell
a good flow
seeped in
Dark syrup
no light
no filler
It crusted thick
It sealed my fate within

That badly broken
That closed up that early
I could only become one
of three things

Artist
who makes it shine

Criminal
who makes it pay

Amateur actor
who makes it disappear

I was two of those by nature already

So onto fraud
Of thee I sling 
garbage in
and prophecy out
(or vicey reversa )

I said as much as I could
never stopping to breathe 

Still at it
Still grinning

There is an analgesic effect
to wordslinging 
You can forget a lot
by writing it down

If you want more
Buy the book when it comes out
This is the short con
You’re going to want the long game
for the full payoff
Trust me on that

Nod your head
Set the hook 
You’ll call it art 

I will too
if you’re still listening