Free thought,

expansion, extension, dimension
I want it parts.
Better yet I need to lay claim to that.

Man, I swear if I don’t start I’ll never finish
and that’d be the biggest disappointment.
See, I’ve got caged bird syndrome.
I know I was made to fly.
But three walls seem to keep my lips paused
and you aren’t a mind reader so I haven’t been able to deliver.
If I stepped out, would you hear me out?
Either way, I’m going to get out this potential in my mental if it’s the last thing I do.
I’m so tired of wasting time even more so than making mistakes.
It’s the difference between progress and progress-less.
Have you ever seen a shooting star
Without some steam behind it?
Without some dreams behind it?
The world changes when you fuck shit up.
Shit, it changes when you make shit up.
How about I change the world by making shit up that fucks shit up?
As in the balance.
Be more dynamic with it.
Can you simply imagine the Sistine Chapel in writing?
The Eiffel Tower in a song?
I can build monuments, and mimic God’s work if I work it at.
But I gotta really work, 
be bold,
make strong moves.
Sometimes I just wonder how those people reached infamy. 
Did their mind magically just work that way
did they try and try until magic became habit?
I hope it’s not just the drugs.
But shit, if it is, I might try some.
Head down to the corner
or some field far from federal lines 
and just light it up.
Just so I can write it up.
My Illiad,
My Cleopatra long song,
My New Amerykah.
My story that’s all mine.
All mine.

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