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You’re a rap, the crowd’s delight

They get you

They dance, sing n’ sway

To you…

Me?

I’m cloaked…a little

Deeper

They call me poetry

Cause… I creep

I’m slower to digest

They’ve got to, think before they get me

They escape into you, your beat, your flow…

Me? I’m what they’ll never truly know

Words are my existence

For you, they’re just tools

They define my reasons, my why…

They make all the rules

You see, I used to be as stone

But now…

I hurt and I feel,

And I feel,

And I feel… sensitive

They move, bump, and sway to you,

But they have to feel me

They call you dope,

But after a dose of me, they need dope

Just to rise out of their beds.

It’s all twisted here

My truths manifest as your lies

There is no remix, there’s only me

My future, cut off like a vasectomy

Raps can be remixed

But poems stand solitary, in a way, free

We’re different…

Can you dig it?

Can you see it?

You take a word and make it a slave

But to that same word, I am enslaved

Faithful to the verse, I exist unrehearsed

You’re a crowd pleaser, an hors-d’oeuvre, a teaser

They ingest you and long for more…

But I’m too much, too deep, too real, too filling

I am your truth, the truth of who you are behind the facade

I am poetry

And when you’re honest, I’m your pain, your sadness, and all of your madness…

Do you recognize me?

I’m behind your anger and all of your vain

Vulnerable, soft, and wildly insane,

I am the raw face, the truth, and the heart’s beat.

You are rap, the face beat, the coverup, the one afraid… to be truly seen

I am your source

The blood that flows

I am poetry

You’re just a representative

Attractive, but ultimately, not real.

At least not to me.