Perspective

Anyone notice how the hardest things you can possibly say somehow flow freely when you speak them poetically? The iambic pentameter becomes such a janitor as it cleans the shame from the vernacular and all because you made the shit rhyme. Gone is the grime and the dirt and disease when rhyming your pain it becomes no less than ease or at least that’s the way it seems to me. It’s like taking some cancer that’s in it’s stage four and dressing it up in a gown of splendor. You can’t see the cancer because the gown is so perfect and it shows no flaws, no tears, no neglect. So in this way I can say things that I never would any other way. Things like: I have no family, I have no friends, my abuse as a child is where that begins and I honestly am trying but I don’t see an end.

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