April 4th

This poem will be shorter
than a midget reporter
Or a fast food order
when all u got is a quarter.

This poem will be whack
like the sound of a bat
or a soulja boi rap
on a scratched Cd track.

This poem didn't come from
any deep place inside me
just love sent from above
and I speak what he provides me.

This poem is off the dome
like loose hair in a comb.
Wit more hard shit than a stone
talkin shit on the phone.

This poem is so lazy
it doesn't go to rehearsal,
oh well...
cause it's packed wit more bars
than a AT&T commercial...
in jail.

And like I said
this poem will be short
like what keeps
you from seeing up skorts.
Like ESPN without sports...
I ain't got nothing to report...