BIC I Spit

April 19, 2011
By PoetikPiece17 BRONZE, Buffalo, New York
PoetikPiece17 BRONZE, Buffalo, New York
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Instead of making nieve mis-takes, why cant we make educated guesses? Embracing our mistakes turning protest into progress. Count this as our revolution. An answer to all of the pollution. Lets stop being our own problems and end up solutions."
RBC


BIC

I am poetically under the influence.

Yes my ink gets me high. I guess I'm something like a stoner, elated off the finest of ball points and rollers.

This narcotic got me strung out and her name is bic.
My voice-box often spy's on my mind, so yes you can say that I'm lyrically blessed my lines is sick. This poetik'eppidemk spits hot s***.

Bic got me going insane, so my pen can picture these hallucinations. I snort stanzas and inhale rhythm.

I am poetically under the influence.

I'm trying to hit my peek of ecstasy, far beyond any falsetto nickels, dimes and pounds could get me.

I'm doped up, Overdosed on sonnets. I inject free verses so my veins pump nouns.

Quixotic dreams got me addicted. So hooked yes you can call me a poetry fiend.

It's so hard to stay clean I mean poetry always intervenes.

I've seen more ink needles then a heroine addict. I pop nouns. Call me a pill popping animal.

I am poetically under the influence.

Slam with drawl is something tragic. Secession similes start my cold sweats.
Absence from my proverbs causes me to twitch and jerk. I switch my styles but I never skip a beat.

My lips are mic tips. I am pure poetry; My back bone is the curled cord of a mic. My mind soothes and sinks when I hit my ink.

My mouth is prone to my addiction. I won't ever be able to prevent myself from taking a snort, sniff, or lick!

I can't live with out my bic.

Bic, I spit hot s***


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